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Janita Black
BEFORE THE SUN COMES SHINING
A WILL AND A WAY
IDENTITY
WRITER IN SHADOW
BIOGRAPHY

 
 
 
BEFORE THE SUN COMES SHINING 

Come and stand beside the window, 

Let me hold your hand before 

The dark of nighttime passes 

On the wings of heaven’s door. 

Let the sunshine kiss the morning 

Before we say farewell, 

Let us keep our time together, 

Where the dreams of all loves dwell 

Look eastward out the window 

Before the morning sun 

Appears above the meadow. 

Before the night has done 

Its’ dance of dark dissolving 

Into the break of morn, 

Before the sparrows waking, 

Before the day is born. 

Let us watch the nighttime passing, 

Waiting for the morning light 

To manifest its’ glory 

From the dim of darkest night. 

Before the tree tops glisten 

Let us watch the dawning sky, 

Looking eastward out the window 

Before the sparrows fly 

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A WILL AND A WAY 
 
Lonesome Lilly sat on her porch 
Waiting for Mr. Be Right, 
Her face was real freckled, 
Her eyes were true blue, 
Her hair was a terrible sight. 
Lonesome Lilly looked down the road, 
The day seemed incredibly long. 
Many fine fellows had walked by her house 
But her manners had seemed to be wrong. 
Lonesome Lilly took a long sigh 
When she saw him come over the hill, 
He was a round fellow of proportional size, 
He said, "Howdy, my name is Big Will." 
Lonesome Lilly wiggled her toes 
While she gave him an extended glance, 
She asked him to join her, 
She pulled up a chair, 
She thought this might be her last chance. 
Lonesome Lilly giggled and laughed, 
Her hands were as clammy as glue, 
Because that big fellow was not Mr. Right 
But she would settle for Mr. Will Do.
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IDENTITY 
 
 
I am snow, 
White, cold and pale, 
Feather falling on the dainty air 
Of a winter’s day. 
I outline the trees, 
Resting, sleeping, 
Until the grasp of frost 
Freezes me in a picture of 
Cold repose. 
Silent, oh silent snow 
That falls on windless days, 
Yes I am snow. 
I am snow, 
Solf, pure and wet, 
Flour sifted from a wayward cloud 
From the silver sky, 
Knowing that I will soon be gone, 
Thawed and melted 
On the waiting earth. Pieces of velvet torn, 
Drifting downward I fall 
Without a sound. 
Oh silent snow that sometimes falls, 
Yes I am snow.

 
 

 TOP

 
 
 
WRITER IN SHADOW 
The writer sat alone in the corner of his room, 
His head bowed in meditation. 
The curtain was opened just enough to see the moon 
That hung with a glimmer of solitude 
In the still and ebony night. 
His shadow loomed upon the wall 
As if it were perpetually there. 
His heart travailed to bring forth words 
That were seeded there when grief came by, 
When pity slept upon his bed, 
When clouds of darkness shook his day. 
Now the words were edging to be born. 
He looked at his shadow on the wall, 
He felt a whisper in his soul 
That emerged somewhere from deep within 
And born were the words that lingered there. 
The writer wrote, his legacy of words in verse, 
On pages of a book, on garden walls for all to see. 
The writer sat alone in the corner of his room, 
Collecting fragments of his heart, 
Thoughts that now had come full term, 
While his shadow hovered on the wall, 
While the moon up in the sky stood still.
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Janita Black lives in Ringling, Oklahoma with her husband Bill. She has five children and six grandchildren. Janita has been writing since childhood. She has won several Poetry awards and is a member of the Southern Oklahoma Writers’ Guild and The Poetry Society of Oklahoma. She was published in The Colors of Thought. Janita is currently writing her first novel. She also enjoys oil painting and music.
 
 
 
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