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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier  3/5/2015 8:41:43 PM
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bA Pressed Rose

Catching a glimpse of her, methodically
turning the pages of the book.
I thought she was reading a novel.
Her face as radiant as always, though
there are lines where skin was once smooth.
Her beautiful hair, as fine wine, has aged from
auburn to a fine silver.
Moving closer, she senses me, as she always does.
Gently holding the petals of a red rose.
Moments earlier pressed between the pages.
Asking if I remembered giving it to her on
our honeymoon night?
Instantly, the years disappeared!
My bride looked at me before gently placing it
back into the book.
The softness of her smile, and the passion in
her eyes telling me.
A newlywed couple again.
Barry A. Lanier




I miss her so much

I still cook meals for two

Always two plate settings

A red rose on her plate

Unless we are talking

Just me and the silence

That surrounds me

I place the dishes in the sink

Lying to myself

'I'll wash them later'
Barry A. Lanier



bCan't You Read The Sign?

Wonder of my words
Of certain uneasy rhyme
Of that which might be
In some future's time

Spilling more easy blood
By mankind's so loosed hands
Staining and then bittering
Yet Oh' So Many Sweet Lands

A fiery, dingy old dragon
Comes blazing, across evening skies
Two or three more times only be
Before the earth soon shall die

Behemoth mountains continue to roar
Quakes splitting lands from shore to shore
Tides rising beyond all of their kens'
Biting away homes, abroad and within

Dragon's tail is but one simple sign
Mankind's fall and certain decline
Of all the wisdom in intellectual mind's
Find solutions, for these trying times

The Creator coming, to reclaim His land
Greed and ignorance, man wouldn't take a stand.
For principles of humanity, in these trying times
And even more sad, he couldn't read the sign
Barry A. Lanier



bDeer Hunting With Jesus (Author Favorite)

The slow founts of dawn,
On a cool winters day.
Cast but one momentous shadow,
Where the new fawn once lay.

Pausing silently in the moment,
Sensing fresh dew on the sod.
Delight in the advent,
And the glory of God.

That still in the early,
And the middle of morn.
Forget for a moment,
Life's trials and it's scorn.

So tell me of virtue,
Sweet family and home.
Tis' my God of Thee,
Give me this moment alone.

Morning shall soon pass,
As I linger and yearn.
Praying my God of Thee,
For this moment's return.
Barry A. Lanier
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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier