Isadora Quagmire Poems

A tiny spark in darkness, faint and frail,
Can shift the future's unrelenting tide.
Though shadows lengthen, and dark forces wail,
A single deed can turn where fates preside.
...

Upon a tender night fair,
Beneath the moon's soft and silver glare,
I made a promise to which Ill hold true,
To guard and cherish you.
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Friendship is a precious art,
A steady beat within the heart.
It's not just presence, near or far,
But knowing who you truly are.
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There are angels in this mortal veil.
Gems glittering in this world's grey shale.
Their lights shine out in this dark land,
Like a lighthouse's sparkle upon the sands.
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In dreams of moonlit serenity, she appears,
Graceful and beautiful, a vision so dear,
With dark hair cascading like midnight's whisper,
Her presence, a symphony, her love so clear.
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When the mortal veil is lifted,
and the soul ascends on high,
To the gates of Heaven, swiftly,
where in eternal life no man may die.
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The world feels dimmed, a shadow cold and deep,
Since you, dear father, closed your weary eyes,
And entered into everlasting sleep,
Beneath the vast and ever-watching skies.
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To love is not for praise or earthly fame,
It asks no monument, no song, no verse,
But pours itself, a sacrificial flame,
A silent gift, to heal a world's deep curse.
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When will shadows cease to be?
Why must darkness stain the soul?
I long for a world set free,
Where peace becomes lasting and whole.
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The hills are fair, a verdant roll,
Where summer's breath is fresh and cool.
On horseback now, we take our flight,
Beneath the sun, a golden light.
...