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October Blue

October 16, 2011

October Blue


Dawn beautiful October blue

now bare to hostile blazon winds

gone now the cordial morning dew

paint pallets, harvest time begins.


Tally the hours of Indian Summer

where butternut suns still give warm

to wash beaten skies where there is no slumber

and leaden days of Autumn mourn.


In russet brilliance birds do squawk

as Summer fields call them to reason

for the turning of the tall corn stalks

and copper fields staunch in season.


Murmuring leaves scrape firebrick walls

in mulled vermillion and speckled maze

toasty chestnuts,  now heavily fall

on to frames of burgundy blaze.


So shamefully nude the willow weeps

and Golden Oaks  lay barren, old

patterns crackle and blow in wild woods deep

and gilded gold, grow ghostly, silver, branches cold.


The Death of a Rose

October 16, 2011

The Death of a Rose

A rose without love will wither and die.

Do you know why?

A symbol of beauty and undying love,

Like a lone dove up above, without Love,

….a rose will wither and die.

I tell you it is no lie. In all her perfection,

Without constant affection,

Or, abundant protection…

She’ll feel the rejection

And wither and die.


A rose left out in the cold,

Can no longer stand brazen and bold.


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October 16, 2011



Fade into rains chatter

on streets of cobblestone

vision faces in the scatter

where leaves have blown

leaves have blown.


Ascend the Eiffel tower

chat in quaint,  sidewalk cafes

inhale scents of botanical gardens

in scents of sage,

scents of sage


Then we will savor the Moulin

my lips torrid, in rouge

explore the acts of can can

Can we indulge?

we indulge


And then jet set to M...

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I search my face

October 16, 2011

I search my face


I search my face, not painted pale.

into the morning’s early day

without the cover or the veil

a smile as sweet as a bouquet


A sincere glow from nights ballet

A rose that blooms in full detail,

A tawny image for a stay

I search my face, not painted pale.


Who is this woman that I hail

and can not ever toss away

In lasting vision, I entail

into the morning’s early stay.


Who c...

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Darling i Forgive Thee

August 6, 2011
Shall I forgive thee my darling
Now that our time is never more
Shall i turn blind eyed, to remnants
scattered, upon the oceans floor.

Shall i forgive thee?
Ill starred, are now my warmest skies
Shall i but drown in bitter tears
before my now benighted eyes?

Can I forget thee darling....and the song
I hummed beneath your artful strokes.
Before you fled into the night
This strange devotion you evoked.

Oh, my darkest darling
I will ever bless your tortured soul
My lagging heart, still holds so tight
For, sadd...

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This Bitter Earth

August 6, 2011

This Bitter Earth. . . . . . .( I am Earth )


I am the rise of creation

I borrow the solar, and

foreshadow the moon.


i am a blade of grass cut

by the wind.

The marsh of darkness


A tunnel of frozen tears


I breathe the potpourri of seasoned bark.

I am........Lily of the valley


I am sculpture, upon mountains

And crust, of the ocean's floor.


I seed in the dess...

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The Night He Died

July 27, 2011

The Night He Died


Ran shackled buildings, mirrored my time worn spirit

Hours  passed, and birds had flown, and

Soon- Dusk...  beget nightfall.

Crows hid, Inside the pitch of black

and cats, roamed cryptic alleys.


As I yielded to life's abandonment,

vague were the  memories

of that somber night.

Dripping in perfumed tears,

dreary and hollow did the earth embrace me.

I ...

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A Rose

July 27, 2011

A Rose

bush, in full bloom,

create disappointment,

Hiding sweetness. ...A prickly throned,


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Blues in Haiku

July 27, 2011

Blues in Haiku

A hot summer day
but not a chill in the air
of the ice blue skies.

Chirps, a mocking bird
while the clouds hang, head over
and the sky is blue.

Her eyes shed water,
as the children play, and splash
pools of crystal blue.

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About Me

Rita Tatum is a poet and writer of short stories. She currently resides in Akron Ohio. Her first poem, titled “Touched by an Angel “, describe her feelings, about a child suffering from a terminal illness. Her story “Going South” , a memoir of her childhood visit to the south, was published in “2001”. She enjoys reading and writing various types of poetry. Her poems have been featured on various poetry sites.

01 Rashida.mp3

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