Best Greyest Poems

I still remember 
how you were
there in the dark,
holding my 
bleeding heart.
Whilst I wandered,
sleepless under
soundless spheres.

Now I search
for your starlit
symphony
that echoes,
as idyllic octaves,
from the last song
you sang for 
our lost youth;
demons we fought,
when colorless dusks
abandoned me,
between tuneless 
sheets of emptiness,
where citrine gold
streaked wavelets of 
strawberry...

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To the legend of silence
that speaks in trembling stillness
I’ve seen your halcyon halo~
that illuminates wilted weeds 
and tilted tendrils 
unfolding perfumed wings,
allowing sizzling seas of stardust to rise.

But something about the way
your soft skin caresses 
my bruised bones,
ignites poetic sparks,
carving scarlet skies of fears
with luminous...

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I carry our friendship in my mind
And like a “Welcome Home” banner
It warms my heart. 
When I see flowers in bloom
I think of your poetry;
How your words paint such colorful, 
Vivid tapestries.
Even on the greyest of days
They brighten my world,
Shed light on my emotions,
Lift my...

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Morning Sunshine  


Clouds all a’ scatter, the greyest of views
Drizzle does tickle the ground
Willows are weeping amidst early gloom
Solemn this place to be found

Chipmunks now scurry to hide in their den
Songbirds stay silent away
Butterfly tear drops now longing to end
Till you awaken this day

Then...

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 I guess I’ll cry~
  a million origami stars,
watch them form 
an endless sea of unwritten poems,
of how, once upon a sunrise,
you broke my igloo heart,
 left me bleeding 
          rustic rhymes,
oblivious to the moon...

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P e a c e is a language
spoken between
healing bougainvilleas 
and bleeding begonias,
dripping dews of hope
through simple gestures~
like specks of sapphire dust
from stars sparkling
amidst bed-shaped clouds,
crawling through the horizon
many miles away,
stretching
beyond
the fogginess
that veils clarity,
stirring the
anchored odyssey
to sail through
twisted tides of turquoise,
facing the harshness of reality
like...

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And soon you will see that inside every impossible is the word “possible”…if only we dare to see it. - TerKeurst, Lysa. What Happens When Women Say Yes to God Devotional (p. 40). Harvest House Publishers. Kindle Edition. 

Philippians 4:7 (KJV) “And the peace of...

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Have I ever told you about my friend,
a mechanic by the name of John?
Oh, the countless stories that he can tell
of the hunting trips that he’s been on.

He’s taken down many a whitetail,
but most people would be intrigued to know
about the time that Johnny tussled...

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dedicated to Kerry

The literal closet in which she dreamed
Visions of a world that outside teemed
Whilst poring over texts and theories
Cocooned her life from freedoms’ wine,
The taste of which fermented bright
In the chrysalis cauldron of her mind.

The motors that hummed beneath her skin,
The restless throb that...

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Has a delusional life let you down...
when even hope seemed far?
Has everyone pushed you aside
and been ashamed of who you are,
makings a disapproving frown
to forget that you existed...
that you were entitled to be loved?

I have felt the same anger inside,
looked at the greyest sky above,
sought...

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These bright summer days
             present a world starker than
                        ...

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Although unheard I thank you
 For always being there
 Even when you were bedridden
 You always seemed to care

 You meant so much to all of us
 you were special and that's no lie
 you brightened up the darkest day
 and even the greyest sky

...

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I am no more than an Courier
A wanderer through life
Words are what I choose to cling to
Purveyor of the times

Spending forbidding moments in the desert
Just to watch it bloom at night
The chilling winds that blow the stinging sands
Help create that which I write

I look for...

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Found hanging in her cell
from a noose made of teeth
and hair and bone

Blood red wine drips
from veins down arms
loving arteries give forth

Rusty bridge hangs in mist
creaking with weight of time
eyelids closed, sublime

Cranes etch their outline
on the greyest horizon
strong and fatherly still...

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p e t a l s
fall like shooting stars
when windswept willows
w h i r l and wave
weeping no more~
veiled in volatile violets
emanating angst
of a spirit abandoned
within an abyss of seething scars
still bleeding
             yet...

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