Literary Revelations is pleased to feature the beautiful poetry of Audrey Semprun: sadness and hope. Enjoy.
Audrey Semprun lives in the heart of Prescott, Arizona with her husband, Al, their large dog, Duke, and a parakeet she named Snow, but who she calls Little Blue, who is mostly white, with just a little blue. Audrey enjoys the peacefulness that living in Prescott allows. She gleans inspiration from not only her small-town community, but also from the beauty that surrounds her in her mountain-desert home.
Audrey’s debut novel, ‘An Angel of Mercy’ is available for purchase on Amazon. Audrey is not only a writer, but she is also an Independent Publisher who publishes under her umbrella company called Joyful Noiz Ministries, LLC. Her domain AudreySemprun.com is now live.
Audrey has been a contributing writer to several Anthologies, including ‘VSS365 Anthology: Volume One.’ Her work was also published in the #1 Amazon bestseller ‘Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women’ [EIF 2022] and the #1 Amazon bestseller poetry anthology, “Hidden in Childhood” [Literary Revelations, 2023], both collections edited by Gabriela Marie Milton.
Audrey gets great pleasure in sharing her poetry on Twitter @audreysemprun. She is busy looking for sponsors for her own monthly neighborhood magazine, ‘South Prescott Neighbors’, which went to print with the first edition in August 2021.
Hauntings of the tender kind
those silent heartbreaks
that land on lonesome walks
and deserted heartstrings
that can only play the blues
and that only know the emptiness
that we share in the quiet places
of the unsaid somewhere in-between
the sounds of heartbreaks and tears
and the want of something more than dreams
The want to hold longer than a moment
The want that stands the winds of goodbye
and withstands the fears and doubts
of not being enough
The kind of desperation
that can withstand the loneliness of me
I saw you on the shadows of a dream
so young and strong looking at me
Why you even care
Can’t you see
I know you can see me standing here beaten and abused,
not by the fist but blows to the heart
I am not young, I stammered
find some young thing that still has a mind to dream
and please don’t you – don’t you look at me
Don’t you see, oh, can’t you see
I too am beaten and broken past redemption,
yes, older than dirt, as old as the hurt
that I carry I carry to you
the broken and abused
as I see the young in you
and I know the pain you carry – let me carry you
to a place no more broken or abused
to the green of forever young
and to the sunset of our dreams
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