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.

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Water and clay


Change brings about the falling
Ice turning to rain sliding away into the dirt,
Muddy clay that sticks to the soul
To the hands that dig for truth
In the passing of a thought
Led silently astray.
Following
The gentle movement of time
As it lays shining like glass
Broken on the pavement
Of just another day
Wrecked by the mind that grows weary
As thought betrays with energy
And a starseed awakens to words on pages
Dust to dust
Filters through the furnace
Sucked in to the pipe
Of eternity.
White coats cold
Fingers tight throbbing
Holding the light
Trying to see
That which will keep safe
Coyote dreams of death
As the scorpion goes forward
The journey known from its being
It’s destiny of destruction
If taunted into the sting
The memory brings.
I see the beauty yet feel apart
From silver drops that fall flat
Smashed to pieces
Caught up on boats made of leaves
And I whisper to the bitter wind
Coming home was all she said.

Beautiful art found at : http://krishay-moehr.artistwebsites.com/index.html

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.

Nature confetti


Sprinkled bits of yesterday
colors underfoot
She waits for the bite of cold
landing amongst the leaves
her thoughts like confetti falling down.
Not ready to say goodbye
as the feathers wave farewell in passing
and fading into the dull shades
of another passing day
where have you gone my hummingbird friend?
Vibrant splendor eludes
as the rain falls in haphazard fashion,
the show remains behind the curtain
and it feels as if intermission
has commenced too soon.
Where did you drift to sweet summer,
I grow weary of this season
Just beginning,
As the small vermin gather
Nuts for the winter to come
I sit and wait
Hungry.

image

The whispered silence


Between those places lies the dream,
the silent emptiness where land meets sky
touches of color on the palette
smoothed to silk
with a flicker of emotion
finding peace.
Whispered silence filled with the breathless idea,
the caverns of yesterday
remembered in pieces
gathered like flowers
waving in the wind.
Grasses move like waves
back and forth bowing gently
paying homage to the being
who parts the strands
with invisible hands.
I come here to this silence
hearing the echoes of the past
rushing through like ghosts
gathering to play their game
of am I here or nothing but a mirage
painted on your heart with the brush strokes
of the falling rain
slipping down below
gathering in puddles
of thought.
Phantom embrace of form and emptiness
beneath skies of falling star dust
covering the wetness with the hope
of another tomorrow to recall
the face,
the eyes that held me with love
and the last reach out to grasp
that bit of you still left
with hands once opened,
remain empty
save for the piece of the green stem plucked
from gardens of weeds
laying trampled below my feet,
I let it fall
and it is lost amongst the many
yet unique for the love
momentarily bestowed
upon the blade
now bent and broken.
He loved me not,
He loved me.

Of time and space…a journey


The tiny golden key lay in shadowed dust behind the old stately bed. How long had it been here, who did it belong to and most important, what did it fit?
I searched the closets that lay empty and barren. The smell of ancient days forgotten trapped in webs that hung like lace.
In the back corner a small box lay. I picked it up and dusted off the cover to reveal a lovely pattern etched in the wood of a half-opened door and stars and a crescent moon in the upper corner. I searched and found a hole at the bottom of the box. How odd I thought to put a keyhole underneath. A strange little box in shape, not quite square yet not rectangular. Almost triangular with a few extra corners thrown in. I tried the key and it would not fit. I turned the key the opposite way and it slid in without effort. I was almost afraid at this point, with this ancient little box and it’s forgotten key. What would I find inside? I turned the key and a hissing sound, like air escaping erupted from one of the corners. a small stream of scent, like cedar and oranges and something forgotten drifted to my nose. I remember this scent from when I was a child. I had always connected it to my grandfathers jacket that was never worn. It hung long and dark and I often hid behind it during hide and go seek. I had never been discovered so I found it to be the perfect escape. How that memory returned to me in that moment and I thought I heard his voice from the floors below, although he has been gone for twenty plus years, still….it is his voice beckoning me to open this. I am afraid and I hold the box out away from me and this warming sensation begins to drift up my arms. I notice where the scent escaped there was a small bit of light, almost like a night-light one would use to comfort a small child from the things that go bump in the night. Open it, his voice said from somewhere behind me and I knew it would all be alright. I sat the box upon my lap and began to finish the turn of the key to release the lid. A snap from within, an inner latch opening and a simple music box song began to play. Somewhere in time, the rhapsody of yesterday and pennies came back to me and filled my heart with words that did not need to be spoken. You have returned I thought as tears ran down my dusty cheeks, you have found the door and I, the key….to be continued.

Just a little short story….what do you think I will find in the box? What would you hope the box contains? I leave the journey open to share….please let me know where it goes next in your eyes.

lovely photo found at : http://spraycan2.deviantart.com/art/Open-the-door-space-81700886

Flowers and friends


White petals dance on the wind
I stand beside the loveliness
as a thousand bees dance
for my eyes and senses
the air moved by the humming song
as they flit about petal to petal
and I hold motionless listening
to the orchestra of insects
alive and gathering
to survive.
Nikolai would be proud
as the air became movement in song
a concerto for one
buzz buzz
buzzing here and there
these tiny creatures
flying close to my head
sensing not a flower
perhaps a new tree standing there
in their midst
and they go about their day
as I hold this moment here in mine,
and I smile quietly at this gift
under a summer sky
amongst flowers and friends
feeling as one.

We have a huge bush with delicate white flowers covering it and the sound of humming drew me close to see hundreds of bees just feasting on the nectar….lovely sound and image but I wonder if this is why the hummingbirds have suddenly gone scarce?