Matthew Wardell Petersen Farmington, Utah

In my writings, I try to convey feelings and images from my heart and mind. When inspired, I transfer those feelings and images into words and sentences. I put them down on paper and create a work. I have always experienced these thoughts. I enjoy conveying them for others to read and enjoy. I live for snow boarding and enjoy meeting new, interesting people. I have been published by the National Libary of Poetry. I believe the mind holds all the answers to life's questions and knowledge is the key to unlock the doors to their answers and possibility. I welcome letters and comments.

Masterpiece A thought starts a sentence A sentence forms a train of thought From that train of thought comes a paragraph A paragraph starts a work A work sets a mood and fills the mind Warms the heart or chills the soul A work is finished and a masterpiece is made

Flames As the red rose bursts into flames Which only the few with impassioned hearts can see It sets the soul into a wild turmoil To know too much, yet not enough To cuff fists at every insult To mope over every short comings To be what people see Lost and broken on the waste side Is that for me, Is that what people see As the red rose falls to the ground And the last ash flickers out With it goes the hopes and dreams of the many And the life and soul of the one

Old Man I stare into the looking glass I see an old man looking back at me His face has a bewildering expression on it His forehead is wrinkled with the passing of time His smile is genuine, his words are sincere His back is hunched with all the burdens he carried through his life His mind is still strong, but his body has grown weak All his life he did it alone Now he must rely on the kindness of others All his life he gave his heart out Will anyone give theirs in return His hands are worn and beaten from the abuse of life But still hold affection in their touch He looks at me, His eyes are big, blue, and clear His eyes hold so much anguish, and yet a little joy He looks at me again I see the hardships he endured in his expression His hair has lost its color His life has lost its joy I stare in wonderment at the old man before me Who is this tired old man I wonder When all of the sudden I realize Its just a reflection of me

All poems Copyright © 1996 Matthew Wardell Petersen. All rights reserved.