I’m  from literature, lyrics and lullabies,

from fork decorated peanut butter cookies

and grandma’s sweet potato pie.

I’m  from weeping willows

whose trunks were a resting place in a game of tag,

from cheerleading practice,

little league football

and lunch in a brown paper bag.

I am from family first, and the decision to be more,

I am the opportunity that opened closed doors.

I’m from an older brother who is my best friend, and memories of family road trips

that seemed to never end.

I am from wood paneled walls that held framed images to celebrate my story,

all of the triumphs, milestones, and glory.

I’m from an aunt who died tragically and way too young,

who I miss and wish she were here to see,

her niece develop into the woman that I know she wanted me to be.

I’m from a mother who made the great migration solo at age 17,

and from a father who had the courage to march with a King.

I am from the largest continent, although I have never been.

I’m from a city best known for it’s sin.

I’m from lakes, the Great ones,

and Americas, the North one.

I am from a shinning sphere in a spiral collection of worlds,

the blue one,

doing it’s own little twirl.

© LaRonda Moore

Shut Eye

In color I dream;

purple pastures of bedazzled fuchsia,

sprinkled dust glistens,

the chimerical meets reality,

while an owl tells timelessly,

and I control the plot.

There is something unordinary about this air,

it transport me where,

platinum skies release emerald teardrops.

On a quest to find the bottom in search of gold I run,

distant, by way of violet sun.

Hanging over the hilltop, I can see my arched array.

So I sail over orange grass fertilized from festive flowers,

and on tranquil sapphire breezes,

I kiss nature on the check, and lay hot in January’s snow.

I am chasing rainbows,

trying to make my flight


of three kites.

© LaRonda Moore