Long Moonflowers Poems
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Even at 71 years old I still think of nature as my mentor…her lessons are everywhere…
For instance…on my walk this morning…I felt a sadness in the air.
It was a very windy morning so it’s difficult to proclaim…
on the wings of which wind it blew in…from whence this sadness came.
I’m not sure whose sadness I was feeling…whose grief, whose agony…whose woe
since it flew in on a gust of wind…I imagine I’ll never know.
But if my morning walks have taught me anything…
when I think sadness and darkness and grief will never go away…
the moon and stars…like friends…help illuminate my way.
As does the evening primrose, the jasmine shining bright…
the moonflowers and the water lilies…that only bloom at night.
All reminders that even in our darkest moments…seeds of hope and love are sown
that even when engulfed in sadness…we are not alone.
I sent these thoughts out on the wind…along with my good wishes and my prayers
hoping the wind returns them to the source of the sadness…
to let them know a person cares.
I can’t be sure about this…but I imagine nature would agree…
Perhaps that’s why this sadness found it’s way to me.
So I could let this person know…that he or she is blessed…
By sending these thought upon on the wind…and letting nature do the rest.
And when they land upon the person..for a moment they might ease their woe…
as the winds of nature bring them comfort…from a person they’ll never know.
Moonflowers bloom in the dark
I long to learn their secret
for it doesn’t appear the sun will ever shine on me
to let me out of the shell of my seed to sprout
I planted them along the fence at the back of the garden
to block out the ugliness beyond
their vines winding wild around the wires
large luminescent pearly petals
gracefully twirling open under the lunar light
producing nocturnal perfume
that permeates the sultry night air
disguising the stench of stale beer staining the concrete
and the slight scent of rot wafting from the dumpster
setting in the parking lot across the alley
I alone am awake to appreciate them
I do not need to sleep to dream
Every futile fantasy slicing away another sliver of me
until I eventually wither as my moonflowers will
with winter’s chill
Moonflowers dance with desert stars
Where wisdom meets the wild heart
In gardens, time forgot to name
Between the spaces silence holds
Truth blooms like midnight roses
Each secret wrapped in shadow's grace
Dark skies cradle golden dreams
Where the impossible takes root
And colours learn to sing by heart
Thorns write love letters to silk
While strength embraces gentle ways
In nature's contradiction dance
Seasons melt like morning frost
As forever finds its home
In one eternal flowering
Reality bends like river light
Through spaces hearts create
When wonder breaks its chains
In gardens where dreams take flight
Our souls learn how to bloom
Beyond what eyes can name
An Epiphany Dawns 2-13-26
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An Epiphany Dawns
I wander in step to the rhythms of wind and chimes,
In the first light of astral darkness,
Slowly shifting in pirouettes through unconnected labyrinths
Of cleareyed dreams
Ascending in flimsy silhouettes from reborn hours
Dotting the flowing hills of my dreamscapes
Where fields of moonbeams bloom
In shades of ivory passion
And clear shadows of gossamer.
Sleepwalking with focused eyes
Through naked validity
Like a butterfly I lightly touch
On moonflowers ephemeral love notes
To drink of their nectar
From a chrysalis born of the nascent
Before the amber fingers of aurora
Spread through barren limbs
In ruffled dawns of new stars
So I may journey into epiphany.
Sweet you look in warm rain
Peeling the soil for chocolate chains
Recalling Vincent van Gogh
Inklings of green mailbox
Nestling molecules of paradise
Greeting us in the melting ice
In the flute of your green wood
Soft Grosbeak in the neighborhood
Comely you look
Oomph in your brook
Mystic whisper in the air on your moonflowers
Images of dreamy hours
Nectarous noise in our hemoglobin
Green and pink touches you offer umpteen
Shadows of your strawberry stories
Oleander glories
Open the boat’s door
No more desolation, quick pulse of footfall in the silken shore
___________________________________________________
19 March, 2017
December
knows the speech
to transcribe double-edged thoughts,
dried between cognitive spaces
of comets tattooed
with razor-sharp ink~
infused with cinnamon and clover,
emanating toxic perfume
of decadent desires~
as our love was an ice-storm~
beautiful, fleeting, destructive,
and promises we made are
like petulant paper-dolls,
misplaced in the wounded effervescence
of snow-covered sins, melting in vain…
Yet tonight, I taste the smoky
truth in tears of time~
trickling like muted waterfalls in mist,
as my insomniac heart follows faint
scintillas of soft sparkles,
stitched gently into skies
of sullen moonflowers and lilies,
soaked in raining memories…
For I am the eclipsed sun~
drowning in the afterglow
of poetic gloaming outlined with
amethyst embers,
while interlocked as ethereal tendrils,
intoxicated by the elixir of white topaz,
contrived from the musical starburst
of my anemic quill.
But amidst lines of twilight,
tailored with wolverine lies,
can you still hear our
songs in Cupid’s crystal sighs?
Or was it just a kiss in the dark
on winter’s lips,
swirling through neon ashes,
like frosted glows of
juniper twin-flames?
I remember your light,
the lunar lamp that refused
to cloak the image of us fading,
when the wind suffocates
the delicate stems that
home roses and orchids,
we designed to the silent hum of grief.
So let me rewrite the words
you used to say,
with the pointed tip
of this mutilated muse,
to compose a resonant requiem
with dahlia dust,
flowing as purple prose
within my cathartic bloodstreams
in supernova coherence…
Too many cold nights
would follow these hours
FIrst frost will destroy
the blooming moonflowers
Because,WInter goes and WInter comes
Snowflakes melt our paper hearts
I want to preserve moments
before they' ll be the past
I just want to hold you
and make each second last
I want to taste your sweet words
breathing velvets on my lips
I want to feel your kisses
treading softly on my hips
I need to hear your lyrics
whispered in my ear
I want to let my hair down
cascading on your tear
I want to beg for your love
Be fondled by your touch
Want you to give me butterflies
Tickle and make me blush
I don' t want to make memories
But you won't be here
One day I'd call your name
pretending you're still there
Too many cold nights
would follow these hours
FIrst frost will destroy
the blooming moonflowers
Because,WInter goes and WInter comes
Snowflakes melt our paper hearts
Wet rain will cover palm prints
in the forgotten sand
New fingers trace your laugh lines
where I no longer stand
Stars wouldn't recall our waltz dance
and places that we've been
They won't remember falling
in once upon a dream
T'was a sorrowful midnight
the moon paints your name
in her twinkling array
Her starstruck children
weaving mystical metaphors
of silvered symphonies...
How strange it is,
forgetting the hoarseness
of your starless voice
as the world drapes itself
in pearlescent pools of moonshine
Isn't it strange?
How hushed rhapsodies sing
their shadowed verses of
your whimsical warmth
Wrapped in velvet-dark echoes
of rubied regret
Forever I shall wait,
In a sorrowful midnight
Amongst starlight moonflowers
of what's become of us
I know belamour means lover;
but a flower too is defined.
Webster puts it undercover -
a flower, who knows what kind?
Gertrude Stein penned famous words we've heard,
"A rose is a rose is a rose."
Smelling a rose, our minds are stirred,
but a belamour? no nose knows.
Meet the artist - George Dunlop Leslie.
His painting called Sun and Moon Flowers
has caught my attention expressly,
for I have not heard of moon flowers.
On closer examination
I found only sunflowers full burst.
Reading George’s explanation
has not quenched my mind of its thirst.
He explained contradistinction,
moonflowers have a paler bloom.
With florist’s flair for composition
so George arranged the girls in the room.
Sun or moon flowers? my mind's still mud;
but go back to that "belamour".
Belamour’s an unopened bud,
that's what Webster meant, now I'm sure.
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/belamour
http://www.gardenofpraise.com/artprint26.htm
To my enemies,
cloaked in t w i n k l i n g topaz~
I’ve become immune
to your illusive m a n t r a s,
recited in roseate refrains.
I’ve learned to see
the vermilion
f l o a t i n g
between venomous
pigments of
psychedelic sunsets
For life is a whirlpool
of uncertainties
slithering through
l o o p h o l e s of adversities
We waltz through
h i g h s and l o w s
while masked foes
orchestrate a
a circus embellished
in emerald s p r i n g s
Yet, I f o r g i v e
your i g n o r a n t skies,
unable to grasp
the vision of loyalty
You’ve long been
preaching in
verses of lyrical lies,
soaring above
catastrophic canopies~
draped with my
sentimental s i g h s
this conscience remains
constantly crippled
by the ecstasy of
poisonous promises~
served from
diamond chalices
once upon
a blood m o o n
There’s still
a pearlescent
shore for faithless
footprints in the
island of h e a l i n g
in the marine bed
of softness
that f l o w s
beneath seething seas,
there I’ll sculpt a
lagoon of
p r a y e r s across
fire corals that
f l i c k e r
in tints of
lethal lime green
As I allow aquatic
pearl ruffles to ripple
through weary waves,
they become the
sacred v e s s e l
that unveils
hyacinth stars,
when your heart is
as dark as the
eclipsed moonflowers
Tonight, I’ll rewrite
the poems I’ve woven
from golden arrows
that assassinated
the alliterative tranquility
in sinister silence
within my inner psyche
In the journey of revival
I’ve mastered the art
of wearing pain
like a crown of
thistles and thorns
I’ll forgive you
amidst unspoken apologies,
and e r a s e the
a c h i n g colors
within greying rainbows,
behind your
soulless eyes.
For, I can feel the
insecurities r u s h i n g
through those veins~
longing for an empathetic
empire that
serves you
k i n d n e s s
So take these metaphors,
make them yours,
ink them across
your s u n l e s s canvas,
and r i s e beyond the
demons that lurk
as shadows within
your a r t l e s s heart.
May the light of twilight,
correct your insincere intentions.