Sleeping muse

Such beauty to behold
The words like song
Whispers of the mind
The muse she calls
To send spirit of verse
To bring me a smile.
She waits sleeping
Curled perhaps with her cat,
Her side of the universe
A world away,
Waiting patiently
For the thoughts and images
That never seem to have end,
That flow
Like a bottomless ocean.
I hear the musical lilt
To the spoken words
Through dreams she laughs
Childlike as she plays
Beyond the glass
In the dying remnants of summer sun,
I wave hello
And tread down the stairs
Into the surrounding skies
On the breeze we move

She sings

Sing to me the song
Of beauty and vision
And oils that run
Like the rays of the sun,
Moving into
The flashes above
Of a star that falls
To your feet
In awe and love
Of the moon.
Sing to me the song
Of summers fairest bloom
Of petals soft
Like silk that slides
Off shoulders beneath
A setting day
Moving beyond horizons
Into a quiet dusk.
Sing to me a song
Of your heart,
Of your soul
And I will capture your voice,
The sweetest birds song,
The loveliest piece
Ever heard
And release it to the sky
To let the universe stand
And listen
To beauty’s magnificent serenade.


I am in the meadow and I dance
like a beautiful vision
I spin
I whirl like a feather
that floats along on the wind
moving back and forth
with a simple abandon
I dance.
I laugh to the world
being free of bounds
of limiting beliefs and I know
this is what true freedom
is for my soul,
this is what life is
for the one who did not see.
He plays his flute
or plucks his strings
and the music so lovely
I reach out a hand to touch
the moment in my memory
as if it were never really there
as if it were a dream
that cannot come to fruition.
I walk in the grass
I am free
I am one with the vision
of peace.

Painted life

She sketches the ghost of a smile
Mirror reflection
Brush coaxed out
The beauty within.
She strokes on color
The palette littered
The colors of her emotion
Applied with loving care
To her blank canvas.
Age old selfie
In oils
Pigments transferred
To match the view
Of all she sees
And below the surface
That which is yet unnamed by her mind.
Still life of girl
Painted by woman
Who longs for the yesterday
Before the creases became
Part of the creation,
Before the browns turned grey,
To a time when youth was beauty
She does not see
That time changes nothing
Just slightly alters
The tones of paint,
Dulling them slightly
Peeling at edges
But still a masterpiece
To the trained eye.


Moving through the night

in search of the morning sun,

rippled fields lead on

to 27 degrees between night and light.

Cool fog gives way

colored movement

through life and dreams,

between sleep and waking

the sun lumbers its way into the blue.

Ghost of a noon day sun,

daydream landscape

pulling me out to air crisp

cloudless fresh

ripples move me

once more

through the prison of mind

to the freedom beyond the window.

Prism thoughts of everyday memories.

City of sea

She lives in colors

in the city of the sea,

crayola shades a vibrant hue

nestled besides her love.

The waves knock daily

her ears strain to hear the sound as they call

come sweet friend,

swim in the blues

where the sun meets the water,

float along and dream

your greatest hearts desire.

She lives in pretty boxes

stacked neatly by the sand

and calls to the ocean at night

as sleep moves her rocking

so gently the waves sway

back and forth

lullaby of salt and sea,

she feels alive here

as nowhere else,

beneath the stars she closes her eyes

and slips away into her dream

in her lemon room

she sleeps deep,

comforted by the sounds of natures silence

broken only by a tiny wave.

photo found on: fineartamerica


Strong arms embrace
Against a wall
Startled emotion gaze,
His unexpected movement
In silence, lucid
Still madness descends
As sunlight becomes replaced
With darkness,
Though light still
It feels to dark,
To unreal.
Into the dream of what once was
What now seems like a language
Spoken in tongues,
Lifted higher
Yet within afraid
To be dropped once again,
Like too many times before.
What malady befalls
The heart that dares to love just too very much,
When will this dance of bliss end,
In madness and despair
Of tears that never fall,
Of those now gone,
Of those who someday will be.
Set free from this embrace
Need to feel the ground below feet,
Need to feel the basics of a child,
Need to remember them all
If only for a moment.
Set against the wall
A flower clenched in a free hand
While the other remains up to shield
What dreams may come
And what nightmare slips in unwanted
To this moment.


Three sisters
Or friends perhaps
Lovingly etched
In the glass.
Ice like cool to touch
Like the soul
Illuminated from within.
I dwell on the faces
Staring like death
Not moving
Not wavering in their frozen expression.
Who were muses
To inspire the piece
What thoughts lived in their minds as they sat
Posing as they became immortal,
Locked into the art forever,
A cool block smooth
Resting on a restaurant shelf
Gazing at those that dine
On elegant meats and deserts,
What do they hear
With glass ears
As champagne is sipped
Words of love
Or words of goodbye
Or the silence of those
Who know each other so well
The quiet a blessing
From a hurried world
To sit and pretend
Opulent surroundings
A get away
From the mortal day to day.