Some days we don’t recognize
each other at all…

We search through the colors
for one to identify with
Some are too bright
Some are too light
And the dark ones, well
they don’t seem to fit,
A thought we catch
But things don’t match
And so, we sit.


© DiAnne Ebejer

Posted in Poetry by me II | 2 Comments



With tongue in cheek ūüôā


Sometimes my very favorite words

get scrambled in my head,

I want to lay them down on paper

But they fly away instead.

Why is it I can write a screenplay

while lying in my bed?

But upon arising can’t remember

a single word I’ve said?

This is the fate of the writer,

And I’m afraid it gets worse with age.

I wonder how long it’s going to be

Til’ I can’t even find the page?

© DiAnne Ebejer

Posted in Poetry by me II | 2 Comments

Dark Night


Life had been hard for her
in past times
And she had forsaken her will.

She was waiting for a hard knock
on the door
Saying fate could breathe life in her still.

She thought that the door may be
forever closed
Locking her in the dark night.

She didn’t¬†realize it was just she alone
That could open the door
to the light…

© DiAnne Ebejer

Posted in Poetry by me II | 3 Comments

Door In The Sky


He painted a big door

into the blue sky,

Crawled in and  never even said goodbye,

And until

the day that I die,

I’ll never ever even know why…

© DiAnne Ebejer 

Posted in Poetry by me II | Leave a comment




If, on these library steps I had been

You may never have seen me again,

I’d read all the books from the top to the ground,

Deaf to the world I might never be found.

As the pages of each book became unfurled,

I’d escape to the beauty of each fantasy world.

I could stay in this quiet world casually reading,

Awareness of the real world slowly receding.

For who wouldn’t want this¬†glorious respite.

From the chaos of the world we find now in our sight.

© DiAnne Ebejer


Posted in Poetry by me II | 2 Comments



Where is that girl?

The one that used
to wake up every morning
with a smile on her face,
The one who couldn’t wait
to begin the day.

Where did she go?
The one that thought
you came alive
in every game,
And all you had to do
was want to play.

You know the one
I’m speaking of,
The one with innocent eyes;
always looking ahead.  Because
for her everything discovered
was a thing of beauty and
true surprise.

When was it that she had
started to disappear?
And did she really
have a chance
to thrive?

Or was she served up
a bowl of fierce control
On every table?
And was her desire to bloom
Snuffed out around every corner?

Where is that girl?

© DiAnne Ebejer

Posted in Poetry by me II | 1 Comment

Other Eyes


Though sitting on the same beach

it seems somehow changed

And sifting these same fingers through cool sand

I feel no shells

Staring out at the far raging sea

I don’t see the promises it brings in its waves

The Sandpipers seem to have moved on

to fairer ground

And where are the sand crabs

poking heads out of small holes in the sand?

Sea grapes lie limply on the beach path

Tall grass stands still in the wind

I look through the cumulus clouds

No gulls appear …

Looking through other eyes

I used to see so much more

© DiAnne Ebejer

Posted in Poetry by me II | 3 Comments