A Gift
A gift is always a surprise to receive
big or small, in a plain brown bag
or all wrapped up with a bow.
It may not be expensive or extravagant at all
perhaps it might even be free.
A flower from the field, a warm smile or hug
an offer of a helping hands.
Always a surprise, an act of kind sharing
much more than the present inside.
Poetry and Graphic by Patricia Walter 2016 ©



Inner contentment and happiness
are measures of success
not buildings erected as monuments
or fame so soon forgotten
to live each day with joy and peace
the gift of true success

Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©


Life is Like a River
Life is like a river, with all it’s twists and turns
just when you think the sailing is smooth
a storm sets your life in turmoil
Whether a flood of turbulent trouble
or a drought of boredom and unrest
our lives seem to flow with aan unknown current
We are sure we know the course we are on
but in a blink of an eye
we no longer know where we are
It seems the way has been flooded with conflict
we are no longer secure in the path we have chosen
It takes courage and faith to find a new way
to trust ourselves and know we are right

Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©


A Child’s Joy
Were does the joy in a child come from,
so free and full at play?
The giggles, the smiles
the little squeals of joy
the abandon an adult seldom feels.
Why do we lose this great gift from God
o longer in touch with our hearts?
Our problems so great
building walls thick and tall
blocking the bright lights of joy.
A child feels safe, so free and loved
no boundaries exist in their main.
They touch, they see, they feel
all things are a wonder to them.
Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1998 ©


 I’ll Finally be There

I guess I look like a bag of bones
skin’s all wrinkled, my eyes just stare.
I sit so still, hardly moving at all
quiet as a mouse in my old wheelchair.
Inside my head memories come and go
I try to think does someone care?
I’m all alone no family left
the end must be near, I better prepare.
There must be a place
where my friends have gone
I know it’s not here, but not sure where.
My eyes can’t see, but my heart will know
when I’m gone from then nursing home
I’ll finally be there.

Poetry by Patricia Walter 2007 ©

Why do dreams seem so real?

You know they are by how they feel.

You think you’re there and done that too

but you’re only home, not at the zoo.

You feel confused, a little foggy

look down on the floor and spot your doggie.

Now you know you’re really home

been in bed, never did roam.

Poetry by Patricia Walter 2007©

Share a glass of wine
enjoy a meal
visit with friends
doesn’t have to be a big deal.
It’s the time together
that means the most
not the size of the meal
or who’s the host.
Poetry and Art by Patricia Walter 2006 ©

Lonely, sad
life feels bad.
Am empty house
without a spouse.
Want my life
to feel just right.
Be content
not to vent.
Have to heal
so I can feel.
to love again
before the end.
Poetry & Graphic by Patricia Walter©