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Category Archives: poetry


It’s my 200th post, and I’m cheating.  I guess I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m not.  Honestly, I have so much going on in my head right now I know I should be writing it out, but I just can’t articulate it yet, for several reasons. so in the meantime, I’m sharing an old poem I wrote in 1995.

Life Is Like a Box of Chocolates
Life is like a rose when it slowly blooms.
The bud is childhood
Closed tightly. Unaware.
And innocent.
One petal at a time it opens.
At this stage
Life is delicate. Hopeful.
And frightening.
In full bloom life is at its peak.
This is the time
To live.  Happily.
And beautifully.
Finally the rose is doen with life.
Old age and death.
The rose turns brown.  Withers.
And petals fall.
-Terree L. Klaes—

Throw Back Thursday: An Empty Space

My parents both come from fairly large families, yet growing up, there were a consistent few family members outside my immediate family that I really saw, and my Aunt Georgia and Uncle Bud were two of them (I called them Juju-Bud; I am uncertain as to the spelling because I couldn’t spell yet when I called them this… obviously, I could barely talk). My Uncle Bud passed away nearly twenty years ago now.  At that time, I wrote a poem for my Aunt Georgia.

An Empty Space
Losing someone special
leaves an empty space.
Suddenly what filled your heart
is missing from this place.
It seems that even when
something new enters your life,
that void in your heart
continues to cause you strife.
And the dear one who is lost
you can never replace.
But you always have the memories
of what once filled this empty space.
Terree L. Klaes 1995
I wish I had a picture of them together, or something cute from when I was little with them.  My mom has some, I'm sure.

I wish I had a picture of them together, or something cute from when I was little with them. My mom has some, I’m sure.

Almost a month ago now, my Aunt Georgia passed away.  It had been years since I had seen her, but I suddenly had memories of holidays and trips to Disney as a child, which revolved around time with my Aunt Georgia and Uncle Bud.  I now dedicate this poem to the both of them, my Juju-Bud.

Ain’t too Proud to Beg Book Blog Tour STOP FIVE

A grateful thank you to Jeniann Bowers for hosting me today.

Throw Back Thursday: I’m Feeling More than I Can Write

I believe this poem was written not long after I first left home to go to school.

I’m Feeling More than I Can Write
Is that what I feel?
I don’t know.
Maybe I’m scared.
Maybe I’m lonely.
I miss my old life some,
yet begin to love the new one.
But it’s not getting back to normal
the way I thought it would.
Everything has changed for me,
and nothing can I predict.
I’m moving on.
I’m changing…
being changed by my surroundings.
I’m getting tossed along,
doing what I’m forced to do.
I used to feel in control;
I chose what shaped my life.
I now welcome the unexpected,
though it scares me.
No one is here to guide me,
to show me my mistakes.
But I know I’ll make it through
this test of independence.
I am strong,
but I’m still afraid.
Each choice I now make
determines bits of my future.
Much like a puzzle,
the pieces are there.
But without the final picture,
I’m only guessing where they go.

Terree L. Klaes 1997

Throw Back Thursday: Bare Feet

It’s spring, which means here in Florida, it’s pretty much summer from now until October. In honor of the season and because I am fortunate enough to live within a few miles of the ocean, I offer a happy, sunny poem I wrote back in 1996.

Bare Feet

Bare feet in the sand,

with children running hand-in-hand.

Laughs and silly giggles.

Oh, how that foam does tickle!

And the scent of the salt air,

clings softly to sun-bleached hair.

There are castles made of sand;

so proudly they stand,

in the glory of the sun…

the soothing warmth of the sun.

Terree L. Klaes 1996

Throw Back Thursday: Sinister Eyes

A Throw Back Thursday poem from 1994, when I believe I was a high school junior.  I once attempted to translate this into Spanish for a class assignment, but I cannot find that and it was probably all wrong anyway.

Retrieved from

Retrieved from

Sinister Eyes

There once was a man

with sinister eyes

that could pierce your body through


He lived in the darkness

in his own little world,

but longed for something more


There came a day

when this sinister man

knew Death was at his door


He tried to fight back,

but could not succeed,

then collapsed from an awful disease


Now his sinister eyes

are tightly shut,

his arms folded over his chest.


It is hard to believe

such a misfortunate man

could have such a tranquil rest.


Terree L. Klaes copyright 1994

Throw Back Thursday: Broken

I’ve been enjoying the embarrassing old pictures people are posting on Instagram and Facebook every Thursday, and I’ve even participated a bit.  Then I thought, “What’s more embarrassing than old big hair pictures of myself?  Stuff I wrote back in the day. So, in that vein I believe I will begin Throw Back Thursdays on my blog every few weeks.


It used to be a tool,

and every beat was good.

So many beats for you.

I always thought it would last,

and beat a billion more

strong beats for you.

Now it is broken up.

My heart no longer pounds

any beats at all.

It is broken and destroyed,

shattered and crushed,

and no more beats are left.

I wish it could beat again,

but it’s too broken to care,

and too hurt to even try.

Why must it all end?

This broken tool is dead.

It will never beat again.

Copyright 1995