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 sweetest life


This sweetest life we live
heart shaped world of happy days
the scent of childhood drifting through
the cracks and crevices
of our yesterday driven minds,
peanut butter cookie moments
sweet and smooth
befitting nothing more
than a cold glass of milk.
Thoughts drift back to days gone by
the dairy down the street
the scent of cows in meadows
muching grass to make the white goodness,
and the glass bottles with cardboard caps
sitting in metal cages on the porch
delivered before dawn,
to see how this life is changed
no longer the joy of a door stop delivery
but stores filled with choices
overwhelming to behold
when we just long for the simplicity
of days like we had found
back then.
Aprons and potholders made by tiny hands,
mismatched and ill fitting
but loved none the less
and the plate left cooling
in an autumn window
where the breeze pushed the flavors in
filling the house
with the sense of happiness.
Those days long gone
no children have I to teach,
to bake the sweets that I recall
except for the occasion that arises
when the need to deliver to another
a simple gift to welcome
a thank you or hello,
nice to see you and a thrown together sweet
for you to enjoy
and that maybe you too will remember
those days of your life
when life was simple
and lunch bags carried
a cookie or two,
made with love
by mothers hand.

Sitting at lunch reminiscing of when I was young and how the aroma of home made cookies would drift through the house and how now every variety can be bought off a shelf, but it’s the love built within that really matters, by hand and not machine, time spent to say hey, I care and here, have a cookie or two….or three….with love,
from me.

yummy photo found at: http://www.createdby-diane.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/Homemade-NutterButter-Cookies.jpg
and the recipe too. 🙂

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

Into today


i had a story

As deep and mysterious as

A thousand nights

Forgotten.

How many years had it been

Since I saw your face

Till photographs remind me

Of all I left behind.

These days filled with more

Letting go

Moving on

Loving more

Dreaming always

And I thought then of the words you wrote

Yellowed and folded

Childlike print

You were a sage of my yesterday

Now crumbling into the fire

I built of scattered thoughts

That will burn 

And I will walk away

In mirror image of you

But I will be better

Because I left it behind

On the path

To loving me. 

 

And I sang


In the midst of the swirling water
I sat among the mermaids
And I sang to Neptune’s ghost
To take me in his arms
As the water crashed around me
I remained dry below the sun
Had he not heard
My siren call
Below in his bed
Comforted by the kelp and dolphins,
Did he sleep soundly
With sweet dreams surrounding
His old tired soul.
I slipped into the blue
Under skies clear and smiling
Amongst the flickers of color
I became one with the schools
Of sea babies swimming
Eyes that gazed knowing
The depths of my heart.
I sang the sounds of years
Of longing for this sea
The hymn of mermaids lost
I drifted on waves
Pulling me towards
The reef of Kings.
I felt the push from below
Raising me to the cresting throne
I am coming home.

Sacred space


Trinkets of meaning
The soul has places
For each and every
Sacred word,
Gems and sticks
Rocks and feathers
Gifts of the natural
Set upon the table
Just as important
As fork and spoon
To the feast of peace.
Sitting in silence
Birds beyond call out
Come play they may say
And I close my eyes
Losing myself to the quiet.
Heart beat gently slows
As the energy covers
Like silk so soft
Falling about me
In this moment of purity
I am saved by the spirits
The feeling of bliss
As dark thoughts fade
Into nothing
Replaced
By all that is.