Vertella Gadsden

New York, NY, USA

In the past, this poet wrote the occasional poem. A few were published in school and local newspapers. since the National Library of Poetry accepted some of her poems, she now plans to publish a collection dedicated to her two children. Vertella claims to have always been entranced with the rhythmical magic of poetry and feels it has the power to spread pleasure and understanding. She contends that we are surrounded by poetry -- awake or asleep, in stillness and in motion, illuminated or in the dark, in differing silences and sounds, in the commonplace and in the intriguing.

I Need A Song

To reveal my thoughts
That go round like a hill,
And bestir my love
Now motionless and still,
I need a song.

For butterfly wings
To softly hold my dreams
And to encompass
Love's provocative schemes,
I need a song.

To arouse my heart
And fan my desires
so they can expose
Love's enduring fires,
I need a song.

Autumn Is A Shopclerk

I know autumn is a Shopclerk
With many treasures for sale;
October finds her hard at work
Crying her wares through woods an dale.
She'll trade your stormy summer gale
For a gentle, chameleon rain,
And, if you follow on her trail
She'll barter you a clovered plain.
In the field where cows have lain
She'll buy your song with ripened grain.

Night

Dark night surrounds all.
He clutchees the day
With smokey hands
And closes her eyes
With whispered songs
amd sighs.

City Fog

Like lovers' whispered thoughts
Smoky mist clings close against the tree.
Tall, shrouded building stand cloud-soft
And fog-kissed sounds of night are muted low.
Not harsh nor ebony-black,
The sky is one with pavements blurred and gray.
The cheeks of passersby
Are softly touched as if with prayer.

Poets

Poets create gemstones.
Their flashing thoughts
Burrow within the heart and mind.
Like drops of amber,
They take the time
To coalesce and meld into
Words and phrases.
When crystallized
There merges a poem ...
A gem, to treasure and to share.