Welcome to Ceara Dixon's Poetry Page

I sit at my window

and stare down at the land.

I dream of a beach

and its golden soft sand.

I dream of the breeze

and its ocean smell.

I dream of watching

the ocean swell.

I dream of it smoothing

over like glass.

I dream of the ocean

when not a wave will go past.

I dream of the ocean

outside my room in my yard.

Instead of the grass and the dirt

and the ground that's so hard.

By Ceara Dixon

I wish that you would talk to me,

I wish that you would listen;

I wish for how things used to be,

I wish tears wouldn't make my eyes glisten.

Why can't you just look at me,

Into the eyes that cried;

Is it so hard for you to see,

That you must run and hide?

Time is said to heal the pain,

But I just don't believe;

And since you've left me in the rain,

I'm now alone to grieve.

And now when I look into the mirror I long to see,

The person who I used to be who ran away from me.

By Ceara Dixon

There is plenty of time some say,

Though they do not know;

But we have only so much time to stray,

And time will live but we will go.

While we are here we are living things,

We can smell, feel and touch;

And as the days go on less time it brings,

For having fun and such.

As time goes by,

People wonder and pray;

Sometimes they cry,

And hope to wake the next day.

The truth is time is time,

And we cannot blame it for any crime.

By Ceara Dixon