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Liilia Talts Morrison

Evil Patisserie

Treats and sweets and tortes and cakes
Cherries, berries, chocolate flakes
My firm resolutions break
Goodness, oh, for goodness sake!

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Lady Blue

She wears a smile, much like her shawl
A buffer from cold drafts
From people, weather's vagaries
Afloat on life's frail raft

Yet she is blue
Her look untrue
Behind by her costume's craft

They say a smile brings happiness
And cheer to one and all
But this blue lady's plastic grin
Is her bizarre downfall

She wears a smile, much like her shawl
A buffer from cold drafts
From people, weather's vagaries
Afloat on life's frail raft.

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Green Branch

I want to be a green branch
In vineyards of the Lord
To grow in strength and beauty
As leaves to light unfold

To dwell close to the true vine
Refreshed by showers of faith
Amid a sea of flowers
No weeds, no seeds of wraith

I want to see the garden
That Jesus tends with love
The true vine of all living
Who blesses from above

I want to be a green branch
In vineyards of the Lord
To grow in strength and beauty
As leaves to light unfold.

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Poor Man's Rain

Some people call it poor man's rain
When pots and pans on nightly stairs
Sound drips and drops from roof leak strain

Some people call it poor man's rain
When duct taped cracks brace to withstand
The pounding flood on window panes

Some people call it poor man's rain
When coats and shoes are frayed and worn
And puddles morning sidewalks stain

Some people call it poor man's rain
When sheets of water wait for dark
A blessing that the night contains.

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Children Of God

We are all children, all children of God
We are all kindred to angels though flawed
We are all breathing the breath of our God
With singing and shouting his works to applaud

Come little children, the master once said
He led us to pastures with golden gifts spread
We children partook of his wine and his bread
His body and blood to sure saving grace led

We children must be, must be born again
Nor will of the flesh nor yet will of men
Can open the floodgates of spirit's fair glen
Where love dwells forever, amen and amen.

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White Orchid

There is a flower that resembles
A flitting moth in fleeting flight
So fair its name has launched an island
To natives' ever new delight

It is a flower that compares with
White doves in panoramic sight
It's purer than fresh snow in winter
Fair inspirations to ignite

There is a flower kings and nobles
Into their palaces invite
To beautify their lavish ballrooms
From breaking dawn to deepest night

As lovely as is the white orchid
I'll never own this bloom outright
Yet as I dream in my small chamber
Faith blooms in ever spreading light.

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Purple Angel

You floated down and touched us
Your graceful fingers held
A dove with wings of pureness
By love and light propelled

We took you in our circle
And lavished you with praise
Your words and gestures gentle
Of chaste, old-fashioned ways

But soon your veils descended
Into the vat of dye
Life's bubbling, boiling cauldron
And came up full of lies

You were a purple angel
The kind men fear and dread
So pure and caring seeming
Yet chained to purple threads

[...] Read more

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Danny's Option

Her flowered dress and fresh smile
Belied drugged, pained nights
Under the Jamaica Avenue El

We sat at a sidewalk café
On a sunny Florida morning.
'How lucky I am
to be married to Danny, '
she said.

He left her shortly afterward.
Anne left town without saying goodbye.

Danny's business thrived
And he began therapy.
Then things slowed down.
He dated
But didn't click with anyone.
He never married again.

[...] Read more

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The Powerful Woman

The powerful woman does not raise her voice
She does not tell you what to do
She does not ask you for favors
She weeds her own garden
She tends to her chores
She listens to your woes
She shows you how to make jello
She tenderly prunes the tomato plant

The powerful woman moans when her own child dies
But she goes on, tending to her chores
The powerful woman lends shelter
Whether it be a bird with broken wing
Or a young man lost

The powerful woman has no face
She has no name anyone has heard before
The is an image, a memory, a shining light
Glowing through a stained glass window.

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On Watching A Dead Butterfly

Who put the silver on its wings
In whimsied spots like metal dust
surrounding velvet and brown rust

Was it the wind that stirred its death
And fluttered them on summer's floor
Or ebbing life to fly no more

Our love was birds and butterflies
Flying to dance in summer's glow
As flames of passion's wind did blow

I held on tightly as we watched
Love's beauty crushed by fingers cold
Into a mask of heartless gold

From grasping palm a broken wing
Slips, dances downward as I cry
Fists twisted, cursing at the sky

[...] Read more

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