Teresa Kathy Rife is a homemaker and mom who resides in Ft Collins, Colorado. She says she loves to read, and she loves all kinds of music, mostly country. She also loves Arts&Crafts, and she enjoys the outdoors, and her kids.
She has been writing poetry since 2004. She loves writing and calls it her escape from life's trials and tribulations, as well as her threapy.


At 16 you took my innocence away.
You violated my trust, my body,
You made me rage and lose myself
And gave me no reason for living
You defiled me for nothing
Not even understanding you were wrong
You left me angry memories, disgust, and a frightened heart.
No matter how many years it's beeen
It still haunts me to this day.
I don't know if my wounds will ever heal.
This is the first time I have ever written my feelings down
about this.
I was 16, you were 37
I have had to live with this for 49 years now.
I dispise you.
I have never been able to say that my whole life,
But I do.
I pity you, and because of you, that's why I have panic attacks.
And all because of you.


Every evening sky, to look at the stars
And I notice you and children playing
Everywhere drop of sun is full of fun and wonder.
You are summer.
And even when the trees have just surrendered to the harvest time,
Forfeiting their leaves in late September, and sending us inside
Still I notice you when change begins and I am braced for colder winds.
I will offer thanks for what has been and what's to come
You are autumn,
And everything in time and under heaven.
Finally falls asleep wrapped in blankets white,
All creation shivers underneath.
And still I notice You when branches crack,
And in my breath on frosted glass
Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter.
You are winter.
And everything that's new has bravely surfaced.
What was frozen through is newly purposed
Turning all things green.
So it is with you,
And you make me new with every season's change.
And so it will be all seasons,
Summer, autumn, winter, spring.
That is what all seasons are like.


After a while you learn the subtle difference between
Holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn"t mean security.
And you begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises.
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of an adult,
Not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.
After awhile you learn that even sunshine burns
If you get too much.
So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers,
And you learn that you really can endure,
That you really are strong,
And you really do have worth.
After awhile you learn
That God is not going to give us more than we can handle.


It seem like I am sitting here crying.
All the time tears run from eyes.
Where sometimes thoughts of sucide run through my mind.
Maybe of an overdose of pills
Or maybe of a heart attack.
Just sometimes I have these thoughts in my head,
And its mostly because
Of all the past hurts and abuse in my life.


What is Love that makes me
Then breaks me?
When in Love do I truely love ?
Is it really Love or do I think I Love?
Maybe I just Love being in love or the idea of being in love?
I have spent my whole life chasing love.
In the end the one thing I love
Could be the mere pursuit of Love.
Do I really know what love is?
And then sometimes I think I push away love
For fear of losing the person
Or getting hurt
I feel that I am in love now with a man.
And soon it will be a year.
How do you really know it is love?


On hands and knees,I drink
From the river of strength.
Crying to the heavens
For just one more ounce, one last ray
Of hope carried on a warm breath of air.
Once upon a time, I belived
That God didn't give you more
Than you can handle.
Now I sit, looking at my life reflection
In the ripples of my life,
Questioning my faith, my will to survive.
So many sorrows, so much anguish flowing through these veins.
Self pity? Self doubt?
Yes, these come in waves.
But what can be done when sainity begins to fade?
My rock, my one true ocean of security,
Gone with a blink of an eye.
No time for good-byes or reassurances of love.
You now breathe the air that caresses angel wings.


Love is a magical song carried on a summers breeze.
It dances under rays of sun and whispers through the trees
Love can be thunderstorm with dazzling bolts of lights,
Love is like walking through the leaves that crackle
beneath your shoes,
On a blust'ry day, autumn's day,
Love is reddish golden hues
Love is the sparkling white of freshly fallen snow.
Love is a delicate flower blooming in our soul
Love is sparked by a lovers touch then
It turns a roaring fire
The passion burns inside us all if we give into its desire.


Their wedding picture mocked them from the table,
These two whose minds no longer touched each other.
They lived with such a heavy barricade between them,
That neither battering ram of words,
Nor artilleries of touch could break it down.
Somewhere between the oldest child"s first tooth
And the youngest daughter"s graduation,
They lost each other.
Throughout the years each slowly unraveled
That tangled ball of string called self.
And as they tugged at stubborn knots.
Each hid his/her searching from the other.
Sometimes she cried at night
And begged the whispering darkness to tell her
Who she was.
He lay beside her, snoring like a hibernating bear,
Unaware of her winter.
Once after they had made love,
He wanted to tell her how afraid he was of dying,
But fearing to show his naked soul
He spoke instead about the beauty of her breasts.
She took a course in mordern art,
Trying to find herself in colors splashed upon canvas,
Complaining to other women about men who are insensative.
He climbed into a tomb called the office,
Wrapped his mind in a shroud of paper figures,
And buried himself in customers.
Slowly, the wall between them rose,
Cemented by the mortar of indifference.
One day reaching out to touch each other
They found a barrier they could not penetrate
And recoiling from the coldness of the stone,
Each retreated from the stranger on the other side.
For when love dies,
It is not in a moment of angry battle,
Nor when fiery bodies lose heat.
It lies panting, exhausted,
Expiring at the bottom of a wall it could not scale,

Return To The FanPoem Index Page

Return To The Poetry Index Page

Return To The Literary Index Page

Return To The Site Index Page

Email Shlomoh