The brightest hue you possess,
I adore your Shiny yellow dress
Sending perfume kisses through the breeze
You are engrossing butterflies and bees
Dispersing not just the seeds but our disquiets
Hearing all our quirky wishes, you are still quiet
By carrying the seeds in your parachute,
sprinkling the seeds of happiness ,you again evolve
The benevolent buoyant soul you are,
promulgate happiness everywhere
To the query, “What is a friend?’’ his response was, ''A single soul dwelling in two bodies.''
--Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.
I play it safe; I run and hide
to let her never come inside.
My feeling of regret is strong:
it hurts to think, What if I’m wrong?
To be someone’s marbled statue
(lauded from afar by one new)
veils me, yet protects her ideal
which is greater than what is real.
To stay spotless in her mind’s eye
an untruth, a single, white lie
was told--that I fell. But, forsooth,
to not trust once more was the truth!
That truth--the fear of being laid
bare once more (to a dewy maid)--
disquiets me: for I’m in dread
to let her in--to trust instead.
Emptiness conveys complete quiet--
Hush, can you hear it?
It is the sound of stillness.
When is there ever such quiet?
Meditation and reflection silently mask tranquility
But sleep, cousin of quiet, promises peace
My lover disquiets any true musing.
Like the alarm that wakes the dreamer,
So too, he stirs the inner most sounds within me.
Listen, my heart beat is not muzzled by the quiet--
When caressed by you, my love, the silence breaks.
Hear the irregular palpitations.
As you lay your head upon my breasts
Gently I clasp your hand
My heart skips a beat.
Can you hear the silence? No longer--
The emptiness evaporates when you touch me.
Love for you disturbs the quietude
Tempest
A tempest rages darkly in my soul
Grief invades and disquiets solitude
The theories that I held once, now are crushed
Beneath the weight of loss and emptiness
These beliefs which allowed naiveté
To entertain ideals of joy throughout
Each storm that life can toss my way….
Well, no longer do I have such hope; no more
Deeply felt are hurts that lingered back
Among the fringes of distraction's ruse, where
I provided shelter for each trace of morose thought
But now that cover has been blown aloft
Wicked wind has buckled rigid walls
That so carefully constructed by me stood
By one great gust the sheen was stripped away
From pools of sorrow just beneath the skin
Now, ugly do they lie; these open wounds
They threaten to anile all peace and calm
For here, released from bonds of safe restraint,
The tempest rages free and thunders on
©Donna Golden
June 19, 2005
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