 Poems by Beatrice Ortega
Heaven's Gates
Across a land where I've never been
I was awoken by great powers
Beyond the ones I've never seen
It's a place of beauty and there he waits
The man holding the key
To the great golden gates
With so many entrances
How can I choose? He chose for me instead
He opened his arms again towards me
I, hardly couldn't believe
I thought; what have I done for such reward?
I noticed clear blue skies and still tropical oceans
No death took place, no time and no end
A white dove surrounded him
It circles on his head as it were his crown
His feet were bronzed just as flames
And the burning love never diminished
Heavens mercy surrendered me
To Peace toward Heaven's Gates
Mind and War
To All Who Fought For Freedom
The night I wept
Was the night you slept
In the longest dreams of all times
Remaining sirens pound in my head
Pleading for you to stay with life
Those beauty greens
Held love within
That was the last time
Before you got locked into ground
I still yearn to become beheaded with thee
The cause is of those past impuritive times
Mainly caused by religious beliefs
As Godly man you did right
And as a woman
I'll carry you in my heart
With so much pride
Because you honored us all
When you gave-up your safety
To protect us all
From warring corrupted minds
The Resurrection
The wind's hold many treasures buried in the past...
One flower grows as the others depart...
What man alive has the volition to ease thy shattered hearts...
Sadly for many will be an ending past...
The reality has been based on hope...
Hope to hold and hope to gain...
Those identical treasures you lost that day...
Will someday be blessed...
Due to your belief, which will save you on resurrection day...
Mi Isla Del Encanto
Siento tus aguas del orizonte brillantes
Rociando por montes jigantes
Cascadas y Rios hechos de un solo mar
El encanto de tus noches son unicos
En ningun lugar podemos encontrar
Tus dulces son sabor tropicales
Siempre siento desear tu calor
Que quema mi piel color canela
Y tu nombre se encuentra sobre los estados nacional
Heres bella … Un lindo campo
Borinquena te llaman
Y yo te llamo mi Islita del triumfar
Porque ganastes batallas de un Espanol rival
Mi pequena muchos te querian quitar
Tu lugar adonde mis abuelitos
Lograron heredar
Tierras sembradas en mi sangre
Pero ellos satisfechamente quisieron serar sus ojos
Y con Diosito felizmente se fueron a descansar
Hoy lo doy gracias a ellos
Por sus sacrificios en mi Islita del Encanto
Para tambien poder un dia yo decansar…
Copyright ©2006 Beatrice Ortega
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