A collection of essays and poems
Letters Never Sent
by Cat Hermoso · Copyright 1999–2025
To Mama, Mommy, Lola and Lolo:
You are forever remembered with love.
To all my family and friends: Thank you for reading.
You are forever remembered with love.
To all my family and friends: Thank you for reading.
✒
Begin Reading
Opening
Introduction
"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o'er wrought heart and bids it break."
— William Shakespeare, Macbeth
I do not know what calls me,
what impulse drives me to write—
only that fleeting landscapes haunt me.
A pressure builds within — unrelenting.
And only the cascade of ink on paper
brings relief.
The words that spill onto the parchment
are tears I have not wept.
Copyright 2001. Revision 2025. Cat Hermoso.
In Memoriam
In Memoriam:
Mommy Clarita
Well-loved books crumble to dust—
yet the words live on in memory,
Beloved toys, worn out by time—
but childhood laughter echoes.
Petals withered by sun and wind—
still the fragrance lingers,
Words of a favored song are half-forgot—
but the melody timbres in the soul.
What the heart once loved, it can never lose,
And souls entwined, not even Death could cleave;
Though memory's embers dim with time,
Love eternally blooms.
Copyright 1996. Revised 2025. Cat Hermoso.
Note
I was privileged to have had two mothers in my life. Mommy was my paternal grandmother. From her I learned to love musicals and classical movies. During siesta in the afternoons, we would lie down side by side in her bed and read books and magazines while watching old movies or musicals. She was a passionate cook and baker. She also loved tending to her roses and orchids in her garden.
In Memoriam
Guiding Light
for Mama
You look down on the ground:
Weeds crown her tombstone now,
Grown through cracks on marble.
Sun and rain has aged the stone,
dulled your grief, but not the longing.
You kneel to light the candle
you have brought with you.
An offering to guide her spirit home:
You strike the match,
a golden flame blooms in your hand,
burning yellow-bright
in the deepening twilight.
You close your eyes and recall:
the lilting sound of her soulful voice,
as she sang and strummed her guitar
A breeze blows out your flame,
And you stagger in the sudden dark.
Blindly stumbling, 'til one by one,
the scattered stars whisper into existence.
And you gaze up in pure awe
At the river of stars poured out above you,
Winding brightly across the night sky,
As she lights the path to guide you home.
Revised 2025. Cat Hermoso.
Note
Mama's favorite song was Debbie Boone's "You Light Up My Life." She had a sweet singing voice before a nodule near her vocal chords made her voice raspy and hoarse in the latter part of her life. But I still remember how she loved to sing and play on her guitar.
In Memoriam
In Memoriam:
Lolo Zimo
He would often gaze out into his cornfields
with stalks that stood as tall as men
to consider the season's harvest.
His hands were large and rough,
dark as the fertile earth he toiled.
Strong arms swinging the heavy pick
to break the rocks, his cupped hands
gently laying the kernels for the next harvest.
When clouds darkened the horizon,
He would fall silent, listen to the whispers
of the wind to foretell when the rains would come.
I remember how he stood,
proud ruler of his green demesne.
Now, he lies in his hospital bed, grown pale.
A plant leeched of chlorophyll
withering from lack of sun.
Age has withered his limbs,
His eyes grow clouded,
Each rattling breath a struggle.
He is fed nourishment through plastic tubes,
And sleeps his remaining days within white walls,
losing himself deeper into memory and shadow.
In His wisdom, the Sower calls His seed
to the final harvest, freeing him from the tangle
of plastic tubes and withered flesh.
With tender hands, The Maker
lays him down to his peaceful rest,
cradled by the rich, dark earth
he once called home.
Copyright 2017. Revised 2025. Cat Hermoso.
Note
Lolo Zosimo and Lola Leoncia were farmers. I remember spending time in their farm during summer. As a city girl, the farm was an amazing place to be. I was amazed at the chickens and goats they raised, and the crops that my grandparents planted and harvested. Multiple stacks of dried corn filling every available space in their house.
Poem
Paper Dreams
I remember the wind—
its phantom fingers
running through my hair,
tendrils brushing against my cheeks.
I remember the sky—
clouds chasing each other
across a sweeping canvas
of vivid cerulean.
I remember laughter—
the tinkling clarity of a child's joy,
yet untouched by despair.
I remember my kite—
bits of colored parchment and bamboo,
bound together with nothing but string,
rice paste, and faith in dreams.
I remember as it soared high,
buffeted by unseen hands,
my ungainly, misshapen bird
marring heaven's blue expanse.
I remember the battle of wills:
the surging currents of the wind
tugging at the strings,
trying to wrest my kite from untried hands.
But youthful stubbornness
and pure faith held it aloft,
though I had only anchored it
with the slenderest of strings.
And the wind, vanquished, carried
the echoes of my lilting laughter
across rolling hills and verdant plains,
up to the sky to fuel my paper sails.
I remember still—
as my fading eyes track a kite's course,
or when a summer breeze
tosses a string of children's laughter to my ears.
Remembering… I close my eyes and smile,
And dream of paper wings rising to the sky.
Copyright 7 Jun 2009. Revised 23 February 2025. Cat Hermoso.
Poem
Friend
You who echoed my laughter
And dried all my tears,
Gave me a shoulder to cry on
And soothed all my fears.
You who stood by me
When I needed you near,
Listened to my woes
When I needed an ear.
You who spoke the kind words
I longed to hear,
When my spirit was heavy,
You gifted me laughter amidst tears.
You who helped me see
The lesson behind the pain,
Held my hand in the dark,
Sheltered me from the rain.
You who gave me faith
To help me endure,
Cheered my triumphs and in failures
You were always there to assure.
You who uncovered my eyes,
Revealing my true self,
Discovered the strength
I had yet to find in myself.
I am honored to call you 'Friend',
But this word alone cannot contain
All the gratitude and love,
Our bond—the strongest chain.
So all I ask is this:
A simple chance to be
The friend to you
You've always been to me.
Copyright 2002. Revised 2025. Cat Hermoso.
Poem
Insomnia
At night, when shadows start to play,
The me I know begins to fray.
And I begin to say
The words best left unsaid,
At night, when shadows play.
Emptied of secrets, unplugged and lost,
Still no closer to the me I seek,
I turn and toss.
Sanity returns at break of day.
But I dread the creeping gray,
When the me I know, begins to fray.
Copyright 2003. Revision 2025. Cat Hermoso.
Poem
The Poet's Garden
She plucks whispers from a passing breeze,
and warms them in her hands, coax then tease,
each word until it blooms and unfurls,
let loose their fragrant meaning into the world.
With patient hands, she prunes what overgrows,
shapes each line until its true form shows.
In shade and light, her woven verses bear,
her laughter, her dreams, and her despair.
And in this garden where her words flower,
She finds her purpose, her peace and power.
Copyright 2020. Revised 2025. Cat Hermoso.
Poem
Astronomer's Lament
I search celestial spheres,
hoping to find eyes
gazing upon me here.
Sorting through galaxies, I find
only ghost-lights—
frozen echoes of worlds long lost,
their suns turned dark,
long before the dinosaurs roamed.
So I launch messages into the void,
past comets and asteroids.
While I wait—clock ticking—
on this rock spinning,
as it circles a dying star.
Waiting for a coded reply,
from the vast dark sea
rolling above me.
About the Author
"Letters Never Sent" are whispered goodbyes to loved ones who have journeyed beyond, and unsung odes to the cherished family and friends who remain.
When not crafting verses, Cat indulges in the delightful alchemy of collecting inks and fountain pens and assembling custom mechanical keyboards, entranced by the swirl of ink on paper and the staccato cadence of keystrokes.