Age… by Toni L.A. Cross

Age is a sly old stranger

who comes at the close of the day

Age is a regular charmer

who begs to come and stay

Age is like the furniture

you know him like your stairs

Age is a sly old stranger

he’ll catch you unawares

falling from fate… by Toni Cross

sleep

slip

silently

into

internal

isolation

drifting

dreaming

dangerously

falling

from

fate

born in this world (a quatrain collection) by Toni L.A. Cross

 

born, birthed into  a dark place

squalling, hot tears on a red face

dirt, unresisting cradle of sod

cobwebs, spiders spinning a cap of lace

 

helpless, laying where angels dare not trod

waiting, hoping for some act of God

flailing, weak and stubborn little mite

strange, wee ethereal creature most odd

 

squinting, young eyes searching for first sight

knowing, somewhere there must be light

hope, in unlikely foreign ground

strength, unreasonable will to fight

 

patient, lying in a mound

pensive, listening for some sound

mystery, to simply astound

unknown, undiscovered yet renowned

this moment… by Toni L.A. Cross

this moment here

just in between

the now and

what has passed away

when today

meets

yesterday

and seconds

tick

from life to death

the space

where action

becomes

legend born

where fame

is made

from

rash impulse

or decision

births regret

Fighting Gray… By Toni L.A. Cross

Noble warrior renowned

Listen to this harrowing sound

Draining cries of earth’s deep sorrow

We will live to see the morrow?

Life is leaking from a crack

Faceless death will now attack

Who has left us silent here?

What foe won’t visibly appear?

We know not who or why we fight

Though we press on in this bleak night

O! That gray would fade from sight

And black be black and white be white!