Echoes of a Summer haze
Long and everlasting days
Sunkissed hair and warming skin
Gently ripples beneath the swim
Delicate rays of dappled sun
Illuminating children run
Grassy scents and floral ember
Etching memories to remember
Daisy chains, as threading varies
Chasing dandelion fairies
Sweeping swathes of green oasis
Hold in place a sweeter stasis
Tranquil pools of sparkling darkness
Emphasised in brutal starkness
Heady days of warmth and laughter
Reminisced forever after
Eternal reeling films enraptured
Of loving memories recaptured
It's another one of those days.
The weatherman says, "haze".
Searching for a noun, unfound
and listening for a verb, unheard,
what I wouldn't give
for an adjective.
Pitfalls are a part of life we all try to avoid,
But curveballs fly to interfere and steal away our joy.
Do not let the winding road cause your heart to falter,
Keep your faith, stay the course, and seek Him at the altar.
When you’re stuck within a haze and lost your happy place,
Lean into your faith and let Him lead you by His grace.
Though roadblocks try to stop you, there are always ways around,
With God as your direction, holy ground is always found.
Don't become discouraged when the pitfalls come to view,
Stay upon the straight path—nothing's stopping you.
Captive
Locked in your shadow
Rigid as a board
Twisted in the dark
Eyes fixed and insane
Arms like heavy chains
Captive in a haze
Trapped
in the machinery
enmeshing his pain
Orphaned on
the loading dock
of yesterday’s fame
Laden
with the icons
of perfidy’s haze
Wandering through
the desert
— of destiny’s maze
(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)
I want to counter your offer with my Humm
Red wine kiss sweet twisted taste
In the rain Wave toward the booming thunder make me giggle
tasty treats are my way to plant the seeds
Under nights waves I crashed through the door
Life is my candy store
Lips grand heavy cream shakes lose my indigo steams
Hun I told you I am not without you bum bum
Lyrically I am soap for tasty eating
Make my home with sour candy
Live for this peace
Love Is my name I am the Game
Written: September 30th, 2025, for contest sponsored by Line Gauthier
**********
Ashen skies crack across my brow,
I reach for the glow, yet I’m unsure how.
Silvery haze over the ocean's thick breath,
Envelops me in a shroud of death.
Drifting through the raging, turbulent roar,
I perceive the stillness beneath the core.
BREAKING THROUGH THE HAZE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You are not the shadow
cast by your missteps,
nor the weight of regret
that clings like morning fog.
You are the sunrise
breaking through the haze,
a warm, positive light
of resiliency and grace.
ANGIE, that last slow dance in smoky haze—
you slipped UNDER MY THUMB like twilight’s ache.
The Rolling Stones crooned fate through tangled days;
I tried to PAINT IT BLACK for mercy’s sake.
But YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT—truth stings—
just loaded TUMBLIN DICE in neon towns,
chasing HONKY TONK WOMEN on borrowed wings
while WILD HORSES dragged dreams to thorny grounds.
O RUBY TUESDAY, ghost in sequin sheen,
your laugh a roulette wheel’s bright, spinning sound.
The jukebox plays what might-have-been,
where every win was loss, and lost was found.
Stones still roll… but honey, in the end,
the house takes all. Even diamonds bend.
Looking back on my younger days
and in that summer haze
you were the pearl my girl
in my oyster the whole wide world
so many memories
of you me and how we used to be
but of photographs far too few
altho' we did have a laugh a two
now all growing dim and grey
with the fading shades of day
etched in my memory for good
our trips to sunny Spain
and when we went
for a walk in the woods
on the way to the Isle of Wight
the night we were caught
in the freezing rain
no I'm not living in the past
and yet I'll raise a glass
to each and every single day
from over the hills and far away
Her warm breath fogs the pane.
She draws a mis-ty veil.
Footsteps fade like lost ghosts.
Her voice melts in the rain.
Dreams ache inside her chest.
Hope hums of might-have-been.
Contest: SOME KIND OF MISTY Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: July 5, 2025
I wait
for hazy clouds to soften noon—
The world dims
as shadows
drag out hues.
Burnt cement stops sizzling,
sparrows quiet their off-beat chatter,
my sore eyes shut in relief—
a final note,
the muted outro—
Until the clouds scatter.
The familiar heat shatters
breezes into embers
filtered through a stinging azure.
So I sit back and
wait.
In stasis, with the cluttered city,
for silence to fall
again—
Purple Haze
A melody maker.
First song, Hey Joe.
A left handed guitar player.
Started in Harlem.
Played songs like Muddy Water.
The greatest guitar player.
Died at 27.
Always played high volume.
Another song is Purple Haze.
The Wind Cries Mary.
Don’t forget Woodstock 1969.
What a great life.
He lived in London, England.
A record deal not going empty handed.
Passed away on my birthday.
I couldn’t have met you anyway.
The love of music.
A great songwriter, and you know it.
Stone free.
Play another song for me.
Those were the days.
A guitar sound through melody.
His name was Jimi Hendrix.
Played left-handed
“I would rather spend one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”
Quote by Author
I want to love you—all of you.
To trace each scar on your skin,
Caress them with my fingertips,
And kiss away your pain.
I want to love you wholly—
At your best, and your most broken.
Till every star falls from the velvet sky...
And even after that,
I’d still find my way back to you.
I want to submerge in
the melancholic hues of your poetry.
When we leave this world behind,
through Purgatory’s phantasmagoric haze,
My love for you will still remain.
For I would choose you, over and over again.
not sure if the haze was inside or out
The view was blurry
but was it the air or her mind?
A haze of confusion
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