Love sent

Piecing together elements,

Words and sentences from so long ago

Give illusions life to mind

Another place

Another time,

Spent with ink stained hands

Penning letters to be sent

Across seas and oceans deep

To lands unknown,

Yet only dreamed

In a child’s eyes

Letters sent with love.

Take care and God speed

And all good blessings in between

Where your travels sent you,

Young men to wars

On desolate beaches and sandy shores,

Remember those whose ghost remains

A hundred years gone

Where do those names reside now?

On ledgers faded and yellowing pages

And bow tied stacks

Tucked away

In case he comes back,

Yet fragrance lingers

Of rose petals and crumbling sage

Remembrances of passion

And sun filled garden days

Who were you my friend

Whose life was gone

Long before it ever began,

And is she there to see you through

In the light of stars

Dancing again at the ball,

Where she gave you her hand

And love had been all.

The time of our lives

I cannot look at you as a foe
as you slide away like oil on a painting
meant to be all it can be,
once complete to dry off
over minutes, days, or hours
there you go again,
slipping through the cracks of another morning
rising so high
playing hopscotch with the moon
each day changing
becoming larger then smaller
as the weeks loom on
and time finds us in a repetition
of rising and falling
up down,
up down into all that we are
of all we become
and we would love to make it STOP,
for just that space in time
where special things happen
that we long for it to last forever,
like ponytails and bike rides
and yet we find we too change,
hair moves from brown to grey
nipped by the bitter pill of cancer
and illness and even death can carry us
into a new time and space
a place we can only dream,
a magical area where there is no time,
where there is everything
and nothing matters
and it will be like dancing up with the stars
and we will shine like diamonds
our laughter echoing through the cosmos,
and wondering to ourselves why we ever cared
about that hand on the clock,
we will brush it off like crumbs on the counter,
not thinking about the moments we’ve lost
as we have infinity
and we are all.

A touch of words

Sweetest words caress
Letters falling off the page
Like rain mist soft and gentle
Soaking through
Parched skin.
Oils of life poured
Drop by drop
Scents of ages,
timeless in memory
Filling the soul with ease.
I whisper aloud
The foreign tongue of yesterday
Born of star dust and moonbeams
Brought to life by thought
And set down upon stone
Etched forever
Touching the soul
Simple history
Gentle like the sweetest caress
Of lavender across shoulders
Drawn in intoxicating
Fevered to love
Becoming one.

Harvest moon verse

Enjoying the beauty of the moon last night and first fire of fall. Bliss.

Peace, Love and Patchouli

Silhouettes of trees stand guard
Over dreams of nights lit by
A thousand fireflies rising
Crackling like a first fall fire
And the moon perched,
The scenes of acts played out
Of visions created in sleepless minds
And the body that often feels so tired
Moving through to touch
The earth
Gathering ashes to form
Castles of nothing.
I watch you come to me
Sweet moon on high you cast aside
Your robes of clouds
Naked for my eyes,
My thoughts to fantasize
Of similar nights
And words spoken
And those left unsaid.
I sleep beneath your eternal gaze
And wake to find the lavender pink
Filtered through a haze
Of this morning as she wakes
And I miss you in this moment
Yet know you shall return to find me waiting,
Spinning endless verse
On the beauty and gifts you bestow
To my heart and eternal soul

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Late for the sky

Storm red skies light my horizon

No place to sit and embrace

This gift of beauty before me

That rain will soon erase.

I gaze beyond my window

Violet flowers sit beside the road

In grassy meadows,

horses take comfort leaning on each other

I feel my thoughts drift away.

A remembered song, late for the sky

Brings a smile to this routine

And above me there lies a perfect heart

Clouded gift lightened by the approaching sun.

Yet I can’t stop now to capture it,

One can never hold things in permanence anyway

Yet I so wanted to share the moment

To show you of the wonder of this day

And I watch as it starts to move

And like a memory fading, 

Slowly and tragically slipping away.

On the road ahead there is room

To stop and gather the remnants of

The beauty and simplicity found along my path

Rushing off to greet another day,

A little too late to hold the whole

Yet enough to say “see, look up there”

A gift from the universe shared.
Driving to work this morning the beauty of the skies leaving me with a gentle peace that I just had to share. So from the universe to me and me to you, have an amazing day. With love and heart filled clouds, K 


The faces of Readers combined with covers of Books

This is just too cool not to share. Wow…what book would you be?


New York Public Library collects in your account in Instagram photos that readers face combined with covers of books. Pictures with hashtag #bookfacefriday  pictures they’ve been covering themselves with fun and glory. The average monthly readers send in Instagram of the New York Public Library about 500 shots.

The face of Readers combined with covers of BooksPhoto Credit

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Under the apple tree (prologue)

“Someday when you’re old enough to understand, it is then that you shall learn the secrets.”
Those were the last words that fell from her pale tinted lips.
I didn’t agree and tried to tell her so. I thought I was old enough and that I should be told now, not at some too far away time in the future, but now. She smiled at me, her mouth wrinkled in that crooked way that happened when she was being indecisive, and then she gave me that not-quite a hug embrace, as if she was afraid to hold me, as if I were a china doll that would break. Her long brown hair swept across my arm tickling it like when ants or spiders crawl across your skin and I remember thinking at the time that I wanted her to hold me so much closer. I didn’t want her to let me go. I think I felt angry that she with-held herself. I wanted to be a baby in her arms again and a yet a grownup at the same time but she let me go and took a step back.
I looked up into her green eyes that seemed to be filled with such a great sadness. Her eyes had always held a certain depth, a light I had always loved but somehow that light was dimmed now. I knew then at that moment that I would never see her again. I felt time standing still at that very second. I heard a faint bell ring in the distance and knew the church in town below always rang faithfully at noon. I don’t know how or why I knew that, and as I would later find out would be a piece of the secrets kept from me.
Those words and her absent touch would be her last goodbye.
I don’t remember if I cried as she pulled away. I only remember her words and how I felt unloved and angry for her not sharing her truth, for not leaving me that parting gift. I watched as she walked away down the path of oaks that seemed to move and sway with the gait of her walk.
Only then did I feel the hand take mine and as I looked down, the long rough and dirty fingers gently patted mine. I looked up at her, as she stood in the shadow of the clouds above me, so tall and stoic like a ship’s mast. She stepped closer to me and her eyes betrayed nothing. She just held my hand and watched as mother walked away. I felt my breath catch as the swaying brown-haired body went over the crest of the drive and out of my view.
I felt arms around me then, when I knew I was finally ready, when I needed her touch the most.
Her body bent like a sail in the breeze and she folded me in to her arms. She was my Aunt and I knew that she was all that I had left. I never saw any hint of sadness in her eyes at that moment, or at least I don’t remember if I had, but she looked at me and quietly said “when the time is right, your heart will know and then the truth will be told. It cannot be rushed. It is our story that will awaken like the tight bud on the tree the will unfold and blossom into itself. It will become what it is meant to be and you will be alive in the light of the possibility of all that is.”
It was then that I finally cried, in that moment that I finally felt loved.
The thought of the secrets slipped back into the dark corners of my mind, comfortably tucked away at that moment like a treasure in a chest and I knew that now was not the time for it. I was not to question it yet and I felt okay about that.
“Now is the time for growing my dear child, like the flowers in the garden or the apples in the orchard ” she said, and I wiped my face, smudging the dirt left on mine from her hands into my skin and I walked beside her under that sunlight that erupted through the clouds and felt a peace flow through me that all of my life had been absent. I felt her energy just by being in her presence, this woman I had never known but that I felt such a love, a connected kinship for. I felt like I had finally arrived home.
Her name was Alice and she was where it truly began.

She doesn’t live here anymore-Roxette
“We grew up together,
we’ve been here forever.
Barefoot in the summer,
cold in stormy weather.
She taught me all there is,
like magic and love,
lots of forgotten words.”

The Book of Alice and Amelie

The days were filled with movement and laughter the summer that we became. The time in our lives we had waited for, the night of the full moon in July when the ancient words were to be passed down from mother to daughter, a coming of age ritual that ran as far in the past as time itself. It was how it was to be and Amelie knew it as her truth. I was a little more distant at embracing it or as mother said, “always a little slower than the rest at acceptance”. She didn’t say it in a harsh or mean way, just as a fact that we knew as our truth. I was that way as I knew of no other way to be and I was always a little less eager at going first. Amelie was my twin and she had come first. She was first at everything and had a zest for life that turned her into such a whirlwind when she stepped into peoples lives that when they were around her, they felt as if the air were sucked away leaving them breathless as she blew through. She was born on the last day of June and I on the first day of July. The summer girls are what I remember most of the towns folks calling us. Our name was not summer but after awhile we just kind of learned to answer to it. “there goes those summer girls” is what we would hear as we passed through town and the people for the most part were friendly and welcoming but for some reason, they always kept a bit of a distance if mother was around. I remember the words I had heard from the Mary, “the town crier” as my mother liked to call her, when I was very young. My mother and I walked down the street to the corner farmer stand and I heard “there goes the witch breezing through with a summer child”. Mother kept walking, her grip still relaxed on my hand and I heard her muffle a soft chuckle and she smiled at me then and bade me to continue on. I did not know what a witch was and only later on our way home with our parcels did I ask.
“A witch is just a person who sees life through different eyes than the rest” she said and continued on to tell me of witches and their love of nature and all things that are sacred to their world. She did not say she was a witch. She did not have to. Later as I became old enough to attend school did I finally see the vulgar depictions of old hags on brooms and words that were thrust into my mind with any negative connotation to them. I was not one to speak of my feelings on things, instead leaving others to make up their own minds on what they held true. Amelie on the other hand was the complete opposite. Many fists flew if Amelie heard anything bad said about witches or their kin. I think the other kids got the worst of it in the end and after awhile the talk died down a bit, life returned to normal and Amelie actually gained alot of respect for standing her ground. I, being who I was, always kind of kept in the back ground and stayed out of the fray as much as possible.
She was in life the light and I was the darkness.
Her hair was a rich sable brown where as mine was the color of autumn wheat. For being twins, we didn’t look alike. I was tall and thin, almost boyish growing up and she was dainty and petite as I always thought girls should look like. But I accepted who I was as mother had taught us as children, that we are all built in unique ways, like trees that thrive in a forest, you will find many varieties and if we were to be trees, we would be apple trees of the orchard, each bearing a different kind of fruit. I held that image in my thoughts as I imagined myself a small green heart shaped apple and Amelie considered herself of the tart red variety.
It was summer time and where we lived the days grew longer and the air hung with the damp humid smell of earth. The cows layed about lazily and people moved a bit slower. Afternoons were spent floating in the pond or picking berries that grew in the weeds along side. We were fifteen that summer and in our souls we knew something was changing but I didn’t quite know at the time how important that change would be. Amelie and I spent all summer together, as we did most of our lives. We didn’t have to speak much and Amelie was always the chatter box, lately though, she had become more quiet than normal. We lay under the sun on the banks watching the dragon flies bounce back and forth, not worrying about much of anything. We were young and had no fears yet of the world. Our life had been spent in this small town for what seemed like forever and I was convinced that nothing would ever change.
I look back at those days and ask myself if I would have done anything any different? Would I have asked her to stay? I don’t think she would have nor do I think she could have, but I still would have asked. I never got that chance. I will never know how our lives would have changed had I had that chance. I cannot carry regret. What is done is done and the path was going to be tread by her feet alone. This moment of life was her journey, not mine and I could not follow the road she was meant to be on. I had my own.
Amelie and I had no secrets from each other or so I had thought. It was only after she was gone did I realize how wrong I was. Two can only be so close before the separation has to occur to enable growth. Like the trunk of a tree growing two at once together, after awhile one will rise up and move farther away to reach the sun to survive. There is only so much food to go around and as years pass by, it is separate or die. I just wasn’t ready for that tearing apart yet and like lessons learned in life, alot of times you don’t see the truth until in hindsight. When you can set aside emotion and really just see the truth that was always right there, you realize you just weren’t ready for it until you were. That is where the peace with things comes. The letting go and understanding that it is. It cannot be changed. Let it go and move forward.
To be continued…..

A Place in Time, My Mind

Words that soothe amongst the turmoil of day to day life…..lost in the waves…another day…


A Place in Time

Is it the waves I see?

Pebbles washed by the waves?

Broken glass scoured by surging sand?

Is it a sail on the horizon,
a silhouette before the setting sun?

Or the lack of waves
on a windless day?

It was all of that then,
when I walked along the water’s edge,
my thoughts nudged by the waves,
filtered with the sand,
pebbles and beach glass
flowing through my fingers.
Soothed by the elements,
that glass and my thoughts.

It is peace I feel now,
when my thoughts turn
to the lake and its shore,
to the sights that greeted me
under stormy skies
or in the orange glow
of a setting sun.

They are forever a part of me,
these thoughts and
the lake and its shore.

These lines:
Oceans become glued in place
Only waves leap up
To embrace the shoreline…
fromPalms Stain Green, byElan…

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Lost and found

I immersed myself in
The tranquil pools
Of your love
Floated on the clear blue
Of a cloudless sky.
I was reflected in all you are
Moving through this life
Rippling with energy.
I lost myself into the depths of desire
And found myself becoming
Pulled down by the weight
Afraid to hit the earth below
Yet unable to rise above
As the waves pushed me so far away.
The treasure chest once opened
Contained nothing much
Just bits of weeds and broken shells
And a mirror that had cracked.
I looked into the reflection
And did not know who I saw there,
Emptiness and a ghostly form
That withered away
Before my eyes.
Afraid, I fought the pull
Cutting myself free to catch air
And rose higher and higher
To where the tiny speck of light remained,
Emerging with thunder and lightning
I Inhaled the air I had craved
And with a shake
Watched as diamond-like beads of water
Fell off of my wings.
I flew into the sky
Catching air into a passing cloud
And drifted away effortlessly
Higher and higher
Between the words and stars
I found myself
A treasure of feelings
A wealth of bliss
Of peace.
Lost then found.

Thoughts on a dream I had last night. My but those wings were miraculously large and glittering as I soared above a blue sea below. From afar it looked like tiny pools.