low light photo of opened book
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

rightly

and wrongly, adroitly

and strongly, we

belong but perfectly

in weakly

 

O poor Heart

lay your weary ears down

and tilt emptied ducts

to be awash with Inchoate

and swell with a different song

 

 

 

 

Finally…

Sept 2006 053

she nourished that patch

with those flammable tears,

from jagged tears

and all that bares,

streaming arrears

the chanting of years’

mourning.

 

 

She returned in the blink of a decade,

no warning,

taken aback

by perpetual dawning

of the quiet hymn

of the rose.

 

(A lovely musical interlude by a lovely man).

sarah leanne

(repost for Georgia).

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I miss you.

I thought of you today

when we were at the beach,

our holiday coming to an end,

my pensivity forming the only clouds in the sky.

The colours beneath horizon

like new creation

taking my spirit by the hand

and joining yours.

Well, except,

goldfish don’t have hands.

But if you did,

I know you would have held mine.

And how you were so patient

the way I kept mispronouncing your name,

just because I couldn’t figure out

what accent suited you best.

But I never thought

I would miss you so much.

Cerulean.

you pulled away

image1-8

you pulled away

the footsteps coiling around my neck.

a gentleness bled

into prints excoriated

 

the first rains crawling

along droughted river beds

shoe shaped cracks that choke

~

my heart swept up

into Your dark embrace

the Darkness beyond human myopia

 

seen only through the lens

of tears given Divine

You reached through dimensions

of suffering, the kind

 

that decodes DNA

and breathes, reanimates

 

Eye to eye

Heart to heart

humility scorned

now plays the part…

 

 

 

Photo credit: my husband

Recurring Dream

This is a reworking of a poem I wrote a couple of months ago, after visiting an old friend in Arizona. These gorgeous trees surrounded our camp site. A night by a campfire, sharing sorrows and burdens with an old friend, is one of the best things in life imho. Thanks to Charles, the reluctant poet   for inviting me to join ‘the back side of the night’ theme started by The sailor poet.  I really appreciate their encouragement, as well as that by Davy at Davy D blog.  Thanks Guys!

~*~

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How those maudlin woods enticed us

adorned so enchantingly with unprecipitation

and the black of trees’ core,

begging interpretation from the sympatheticly dressed.

But we decided not to indulge them.

Or

maybe us.

We held hands instead.

And ran through.

Through

to the back side of the night

where together we watched

the eyelid opening at horizon,

where we no longer dream

of windows wiping clean…

sepiated

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(I took this photo yesterday of my father. He still works as a landscaper, at 83! He helps to take care of this beautiful property for his friend, who died a couple of years ago. He helps to lovingly tend it for her children who currently live elsewhere.)

*

your whispering  legacy haunted

those delightfully enchanted trees

they bashfully danced to the harmony’s spell

you cast on ebullient breeze.

gentle tread of your variegated spirit

autumned now with so much grace

I know you have moved on in silence

but our movement here follows your trace.

the impression of a loved one’s silhouette

caught tenderly in a still frame

is a clear photographic injustice

to the care that he takes in your name…