Best Windowsill Poems

In the May-time of my life
time bloomed each day a prickly boll –
but I, like the softest cotton within such a sharp seed  
swaddled...

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I learn to live
with the silence.
Thoughts echo
in the empty house.

I transform your room
into my space,
place
candles and shells
on the windowsill. 
Your books are still
on the shelves...

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 My cherished one...

Here I am ,alone with stone wall paper

in the silence of my room.

The pit-pattering raindrops upon my windowsill 

help me to remember,...

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Etching tales that run in trails along a parchment sheet
From feathered quill in trembling hand so longing now for sleep
As black ink drips down from...

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The screen door droops lazily, slightly ajar
Crickets croon lullabies, heard from afar
Kid’s sticky faces, betray ice-cream bars
All on a summers eve

Legs peel off chairs, from...

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Last night I lay in the darkness of my room 
like i always do 
Me, a dim lamplight and thoughts of you 
my only companions...

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Since you’ve been gone….
	The flowers have lost their color
		The sun refuses to give its light
			The moon weeps in her sorrow
				And days have turned into night
					Since...

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Driving down the street,
sweet suburbia exhales,
scents of butter pecans
and apple blossoms penetrate the wind,
but secrets hide behind this serene atmosphere.

Momma's passed out on the couch,
Jack's...

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Poe laid flowers on her grave
    His lost Lenore
    One he’d love forevermore 
    But doomed...

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You were drawn to its contours
worn smooth by the elements
over eons of existence;

cream colored and streaked with grayish blue 
with its scattering of sparkle -
ensconced...

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These are the times
I sit and ponder at the beauty of it all,
amazed at the bounty of my blessings
Overburdened with foolish reminiscing
For the time has...

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A Renga for Poetry Soup:


Meander

Time and the river
Endless silver morning
Autumn leaves float by

Shimmering streaming mountains
Pines swaying in constant winds

Morning mirror
Another gray hair
Ah! the wind of...

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Windowsill love song,
The mariachi crickets:
Serenade the night....

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The cat sat on the windowsill, 
And stirred a little in his sleep.
Each breath a cloud upon the glass 
And outside the snow was falling...

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Windmills
standing still
no wind
empty windowsill

minds 
at sleep
a death
of another time

heartless
flowers that never grow
no wine
tears fall silent

fragments appear
shooting stars at night
dispersed onto the dark
windmills of my mind...

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