SUSAN CLEVELAND - POEMS

Susan Cleveland is an emerging author who lives in Atlantic Canada. She enjoys spending time with her grandsons, and being walked by her dog.

​THE ECHO CALLS MY NAME

As the yellow-orange sun crests the horizon,
we wake, in the stillness of dawn.
Cool, crisp, and clear; the air beckons
in harmony with the Robin's song.

A stirring breeze captures the melody,
and the echo calls my name.

Prepped and ready, we sway;
my dog's anxious dance of late.
She stays faithfully by my side,
joining my light-hearted gait.

One quick bark leads the way,
and her echo calls my name.

Spring buds burst forth in hues:
red, pink, and purple, bright with dew.
Scented with color, fresh and new.
The clear sky, so boldly blue.

With hope, flowers begin another round of life,
and the echo calls my name.

Children's distant laughter rings merrily,
I smile at the sound.
Running, jumping, and playing games of joy,
their feet barely touching the ground.

Peals reverberate into the day,
and the echo calls my name.

Sizzling grills of pungent smoke,
families join for a feast.
Crisp greens, watermelon, dripping ice creams.
Tendrils of hickory: North, South, West, and East.

Aroma of BBQ, crowds gathered near,
and the echo calls my name.

We sit by a stream, my girl and I,
my line cast into the swirling depths.
Wavering water and rippling rocks,
sun-shimmering diamonds that sparkle where it's wet.

Silvery fish amplify the sound,
and the echo calls my name.

Heat-soaked we rise, then splash and play.
The day's catch in hand, we roam.
The journey back, we happily stroll;
making our way back home.

Sunday's memories bring peace to my mind,
and the echo calls my name.



​

NIGHTMARES
​

Jumbled webs of confusion harness my thoughts.
Fogged ideas tumble and swirl, like a swaying light-bulb behind a dark grey veil.
Thunderous black clouds crack loudly, echoing distorted voices of insanity.
Irrational heart beats race as fear enters my mind, sheer, unimaginable terror grips tightly,
like a vise with incredible strength.
Scenes of horror flash dramatic pictures of heart-wrenching reality.
I am held in place, unable to move, forced to watch unmistakable acts of evil.
Death approaches in many forms, chasing my subconscious into a surreal stratosphere.
Loved ones are hurt and crying, strangers plead for help.
Closet-monsters leap out, performing illusionary dances of darkness.
Unprotected, I fear I will lose my life to an over-active imagination.
Suddenly, I wake. The sounds of my screaming throwing me from a Hell-bound roller-coaster ride.
The morning sun greets me; as happy as I to meet the new day.
Yet, we know the distant dusk fast approaches, making ready once again the stage of sleepers,
where the never-ending play begins the next act.
We must prepare for these on-going movies which shred our mentality;
for when we fall under the spell of exhaustion, we land hard, and defenseless.



​

CANUCK-TIONS
​

Canada's history
relies on people; our staple
whose roots are strong and deep
like our trees of Maple

Our seasons are aromatic and unique:
they're not for the feint of heart.
We turn on heat and A/C the same day;
we don't always end where we start

The picturesque geography
is a wonder to behold
Beauty reigns East to West
Santa lives at our North Pole

We stop for funeral processions,
Police, Ambulance, and Fire, too;
Community support can be found
in what we say and do

Quick to apologize;
we're sorry every day
Keeping the peace matters,
because we are Canadians, eh?

​