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I stand-
gazing     at the weathered    door-
beautiful    the knob is old brass

foliage   dark    and green
protects it

an assemblage of butterflies
lilt and move musically all about
fluttering and it's
lovely

at the weathered door beautiful

and I look behind me at the whispering
foliage    dark    and green
a labyrinthine of twisting memories
        a long path        strewn with tears

woebegone and sorrowful is my journey
as I
gaze
     at the weathered
           door-
                beautiful

and the knob of old brass    beckoning
from
foliage
dark
and green
     that protects

and I
step forward      to open 
but tangled vines
cling to me-
around my legs and arms
holding me       back

and butterflies
lilt and flutter    musically
a beautiful assemblage    encouraging

and the past
is whispering    and hissing
surreptitious
of a manuscript written
where I languor      listlessly and weary 

oh the murmuring memories
that hold me       locked in the past

my journey to the door      a struggle 
but oh I love them     the memories
each one

weeping     I must break free    of the tangled vines
of the past     so I take each beautiful
tendril off                    each clinging vine
and lay them gently on the ground
with a kiss

and step forward    frightened and quivering 
placing my hand on       the old brass knob
and
     I open that door
the weathered door beautiful

protected by
foliage     dark    and green
and step through

that assemblage of butterflies
flutter musically through the opening      to
a lush and green sumptuous    beginning

and I follow
them 
      into a future
         mellifluous

________________________
June 18, 2015


Free Verse

Written for the contest, ...And then I opened THAT door.
sponsor, John Lawless

First Place

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