Best Gathers Poems
Storm gathers her minions, trains her army,
I watch from my window, thinking of smoke
She is unusually puffy and billowy, personable
Determined and distinguished, I feel fearful
Storm continues to bring in troops
I think it is overkill, but what do I know?
I have never been a commander of an element
I sit back and wait, worried about the possibilities.
Early on, ere the grassy knoll gathers momentum
huddled shivering against the ground, stemless tops
of yellow dot the lawns of the old neighborhood, signaling
winter's demise without shouting Spring too loudly...
In a wink or a blink of an eye, these wild buttons
mushroom, spreading far and wide, usurping
the green mantle of my lawn, stems now shooting forth
twisting and turning at jagged angles, bizarrely...
at times, wild undergrowth barging into a (civilized) urban plot
when poof! their signature yellow smiles vanish, dispersed into
puff balls, architectural marvels, wind-scattered seeds, ubiquitous
but not before my inner child picks out a lovely bouquet
for my saintly mother
April 07, 2019
Entry in DANDELIONS contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
In the universe of the two rooms, she gathers her dreams between her palms,
She lets her fired hair descend upon the folds of our fleeting time.
"It's the end," she articulates with a voice sipping from the last silences,
Through the mirror in which we have often been born and died together.
I watch as she spreads the roots of fire over her shoulders,
In the innocence of what will melt and crumble under gazes.
I wish to be Adam, to feast upon the forbidden fruit of the heart,
But our Eden is now nothing more than a colorless portrait on the wall.
In bed, I embrace her lost silence, somewhere between my ribs,
My arm, a sleeping serpent upon her white neck, searching for the pulse of life.
My hands — two frightened mollusks — came to a shy halt on her skin,
Clasping fingers, joints, a prayer to the elbows whispered.
She rises and the nightgown becomes a kind of pale ghost,
"Enough," she murmurs, "this is fine," in the echo of her voice, a suspended goodbye.
I watch as the echo of her steps vanishes in the marble of the corridors,
Through the ajar door - a beggar of her silken memories.
As she leaves our concrete garden, under the swaying trees,
She asks — a final whim — "buy me high heels with thin spikes,
Shoes with black, thin heels," and then a moment’s reconsideration,
"No, I want them to be red." It’s a longing for shoes on the road to nowhere.
While the poinsettias shake under the weary sun, I close the door—
I close a book whose last page burns, and between the lines, does not.
At the edge of the evening, when the world gathers in shadows,
I begin to lose my thoughts, like a river flowing restlessly,
A man, not a societal dream, not a projection
Of conventions, but a fire that ignites a light
In my femininity, a crown of sparkling diamonds,
A freedom to be the woman who dances through the storm, in the rain,
With hair untied and laughter like a song of the enamored wind.
Not the lady who sits in corners, silent, with soft words,
A shadow of expectations, bound in golden chains,
A smile forced by the harsh sun of judgment,
Hiding storms beneath velvet skin,
No, but the woman who dreams with the boldness of a child,
With a wild heart and the disordered art of the soul,
Who refuses to bow her spirit to criticism.
She is the one who embraces her strength,
And her words are clear as mountain waters,
Fighting for what she feels, for her boundaries,
With her blood young, courageous, full of imagination.
Love a man who watches you break down and rebuild,
With the admiration of a painter for his masterpiece,
The one who smooths your wings to fly,
Lifting you far, where the sky calls you,
In a dance of love, respect, and trust,
Where souls are woven together in light.
Storm gathers her minions, trains her army,
I watch from my window, thinking of smoke
She is unusually puffy and billowy, personable
Determined and distinguished, I feel fearful
Storm continues to bring in troops
I think it is overkill, but what do I know?
I have never been a commander of an element
I sit back and wait, worried about the possibilities.