We saw the feathered edge of the sunset
and dreampt of an evening's wish to explore
Where the beating heart of our yearnings met
And invited romance at the seashore
Where time began to merge and reminisce
As white caps slowly furrowed the pebbled sand
The twilight revealed our heart's eagerness
When we walked together, warm hand in hand
Imagined dreams beneath a star-lit night
And basked in the glorious firmament
Where waves were dressed in white from the moonlight
and sounds from the sea whispered enchantment
As we came to capture Saint Elmo's Fire
That was glowing deep inside our desire
It’s raining outside-
no, more than that.
The rain falls in blocks,
thick curtains that turn the world to ash and silver,
smothering it in the hiss of splattering drops.
Outside my old home
stood a bamboo tree, four meters tall.
On days like this
(when I wasn’t welded to the TV)
I’d watch its branches bow and sway,
like a fishing rod straining
against some monstrous catch,
the rain pulling, tearing,
heaving to break free.
It struck me, even then,
that I never looked at it that way in sunlight.
When it basked in gold,
reaching for the sky,
I barely noticed.
Even now,
I rarely write about happiness.
Like there’s some invisible limit,
a cringe-o-meter,
to how well I can make joy sound.
Perhaps we like
to lean toward the darker shades.
After all, who stops mid-laugh to ask,
"Why do I feel like this?"
or "Does any of this matter?"
Good times don’t hold still-
they fly.
And so the melancholy truth remains:
that ink flows faster under grey skies
Across the way, I can replay
Scenes from the past, like a wandering day
Of hope and tenderness on the blue bus
Among riders, hurried but generous.
As such stars passed through Montana, eyes stared,
With nice young men, jobless, steeped in despair,
Yet, still the road offered joy and surprises,
Bright beaches beneath friendly sunrises.
Felt like an odyssey beaming with light,
And together we basked in shared delight.
An Indigenous man offered his lore
Of fertile wild land and truths we'd ignored.
There was such shared hope interspersed with pain,
Each mile a drumbeat, each gain our domain.
The girl who writes love poems
Finally became the muse
She was so wrapped up in her delusion
She didn't see she was being used.
She poured out her heart into stanzas and rhymes
And basked in the warmth of his gaze
Little did she know the time that she’d waste
Would haunt her the rest of her days.
Though she spent years pining for him
She still ended up a fool
Despite the hours they spent in houses and trees
He wouldn’t look at her in school
And so now here she is
The main character in a poem
About how she yearns and longs for his love
But doesn't mean anything to him.
A DAY ON THE BEACH CAN'T BE BEAT
written for "Choose One Image Poetry Contest," Mystic Rose, sponsor
Two ears of corn on the sand,
With no sunscreen, they thought it was grand.
They basked in the rays,
In a golden haze,
Till they popped like a snack, so unplanned!
I reminded myself in an unusual way,
While standing in a rain of a watery display,
Soaking in my new town's local splash park,
Remembering how I needn't be in the dark.
I let the risen structuredly flowing fountain
Grant me a liquified sense of liberation
As I basked beneath a cloudy sunlit sky,
Promising myself to never again deeply cry.
I reminded myself on this very special day,
From now on everything'll be more okay.
I embraced all my parts of that were hurting,
As I began speculating every new beginning.
I smiled fondly about who I am becoming,
As I close the chapters for every ending.
I danced in the upwardly cascading rains,
As I silently renounced away all of my pains.
It had been so long since I’d felt loved and wanted.
Then I met John. We basked in our late-in-life romance.
Gone was the loneliness that had left me feeling haunted.
Our relationship proved I had been wise to take a chance.
Though somewhat set in our ways, we adjusted well,
each accommodating the other. He often mentioned how much
we were alike. We had no serious disagreements. I fell
more deeply in love with him, daily craving his touch.
A year after we met, he proposed. Of course, I said, “YES!”
We retirees in the autumn of life would be together forever
enjoying each other and family, traveling. No stress---
Then came the devastating blow. Forever became never.
He called on Christmas Day, of all times, to say he’d changed his mind.
This man who’d often mentioned how alike we were declared
that we were too different. He made no effort to be kind,
to let me down gently. I doubt he ever loved me—or even cared.
He's been a casket full of bones for for six or seven years.
When I learned of his demise, I deeply sighed but shed no tears.
Once green and firm,
she danced,
on the boughs edge.
Whirling and dipping,
through the breezes,
of changing seasons.
She basked,
in hot summer suns.
Rejoicing in the adulation,
heaped upon her,
as she selfishly,
provided shade,
and shelter
to all who sought it.
Asking for nothing,
needing no one.
Autumn days,
stroked her ego,
into maturity.
transforming her,
into the envy of
artists and poets,
sages and prophets,
wise men and clerics.
But the chill of winter’s age,
dried and wrinkled her,
she fell,
dying.
Until all that remains,
of her once majestic existence,
is a final crumbling gasp,
under the heels of,
marching boots.
as we danced every step was discovery, the creaking patio hardwood
rhythmic and soulful. the light was wet, it’d just rained. under the melting
evening sky time softened, dripped. we glistened, jewels in the night. something
about that jazz, we moved though we can’t dance, we were the piano keys, the air
frolicking around the strings, the breath of every hum. the music was red, freedom
pulsed. I don’t know where we were or when it was, I remember being pulled from
this world by hands soft like the jazz. we danced. as the warm sax blew; we basked
the fuzz, the feeling, the sound, the tears on our eyelids shivering. our shadows
stretched into the earth, laying slender on the sand, in insignificance we revel.
something about that jazz, we slow danced, stepping on each other’s toes - but
it didn’t matter. the sun was going down, we tripped onto the ground. the
hardwood moaned, we laughed. the music slowed, you kicked off your red shoes
the ones you got to wear because it was finally summer. and i lay there, still in your
arms for the very last time, how was i to know that it would be the final. but it was
There are gifts that I have treasured.
One have I with worth unmeasured.
One day I turned into a swan.
In poetry, this lingers on.
A young man smiled and gazed my way.
The sun was he, and in his ray
I basked as if in light of dawn.
In poetry, this lingers on.
To dulcet eyes that on me shone
and love like I had never known
in soft caresses I was drawn.
In poetry, this lingers on.
For his sweet kisses how I yearned
when to his country he returned.
Our time was swift and then was gone.
In poetry, this lingers on.
Abandoned
What stories will I see through thine eyes of ancient window panes?
Does your sagging outward appearance cloud mine judgment
Of your once sparkling glory?
Oh but the tales,
These old boards could creak.
The sadness of a broken heart,
tears of joy welcoming a new birthed babe,
Sweets basked in fiery illuminations.
Celebrate.
Spill onto me your happenings.
Like the webs spun on your now vacant
Stillness.
Unfold, pages..fluttering dryly
Contents
Worlds
A lifetime.
Tell me, oh structure
The meaning of life.
For life’s meaning, is that one day it
Ends.
Do not snuff the lights of closed doors..
But release stale airs of yesterday.
Rejuvenate.
You are arisen..
Lamp is the sun of the night that dispels darkness.
Is a lit lamp put under the bed? Jesus asked
It's placed on a stand to bring out outright brightness.
With its warmth, the nocturnal environs are basked.
With radiance, shimmer, and illumination
A lamp brings hidden things to light when daylight fades.
For movements, the earthlings get their regulation
With the wonder of sight, peacefulness pervades.
Each movement of existence is an endeavor.
Though the might of vile seems to over-weigh goodness
The truth is the truth. Lies can't end it forever.
The divine dwells in our journey towards fullness.
Listen well! Jesus said, See! Watch! Be observant!
Fulfilling aptitudes, keep your being fervent!
Line of Inquire:
In the shadowed chambers of my soul, fears lurk
Whispers of doubt, like shadows in the murk
I resisted, like a warrior in the night
But now I wish I had basked in love’s pure light
As the thorny vines that had me tangled up were torn
I felt a single tear roll down my cheek
I tasted the salt as more of them began to flow
As the weeds that crept up to destroy me were picked
I felt my whole body become overtaken with sobs
I gasped for breath as I realized I was still alive
As the branches that scratched and prodded were cut
I felt a new power arise in me as I stood
I was able to stand on my own and escape
As the feathers caressed me in a light embrace
I felt my arms open up
I felt them ache as I reached them to the sky
As the flower petals held and protected me
I felt myself fall into comfort
I knew I was finally safe
As the warmth of the sun shone and covered me in love
I felt myself being renewed as I basked in the light
I was free
The sun set and radiated its golden glow
I stood as a symbol of strength
A masterpiece of resilience, liberated and reborn.
You bloomed in heartbeats of cream daisy,
longing to be born like breaths of
gold honeysuckle petals,
but, when fate smeared silence
on twinkling throbs of
innocence, life
sighed in crisp
embers
of
faith
as your
feet basked in
peace above earth.
Weaving shine with a
pearly smile, you swirled in
a snow-white lily's soul when
heaven melted in moonstruck sight;
I'll miss you, beyond love, my flower.
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