Short Barest Poems

Barest of branches 
shining in simplicity, 
so much room to grow....

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God made you,
Adam with water brush, 
At dusk
Then, he made 
This world of 
Watercolors with
Just the 
Barest of brushstrokes...

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to
    speak
the barest
        whisper
in
sweet
and easy words.
..short.
to the point
pungent
with
a
purpose..
so
    ordinaire...

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There are analogies
well hidden
in the trees
behind golden leaves

The  barest breeze
reveals them
to those that take
the time to wander-

Life is meant to ponder....

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I stand on the highest cliff shaking,
it's the barest, sharpest reef existing...
never daring to look down;
ravens watch me with a frown, 
but the awful feeling keeps growing....

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lonely 
solitary 
shadowy 
..the hidden
         sub-conscious: 
           a dream 
brings forth
    the enigmatic 
to the fore,
the barest 
             whisper
changes..
             my mood..
illuminated 
      ..living...

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Souls do not weigh much. 
Not at all- 
that they can outdo the lightness of a feather 
and even the barest of all wrecked hearts. 
Souls- too delicate, 
that they stray upon vibration of the thinnest air. 
You see, I have a soul. 
It will take me. 
And I will let it.
And as for you, 
who is a soul wrapped within a soul-
if the air takes you, 
then I shall let you go....

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She gives away so little, scraps of
intelligence, barest insights, unconfirmable
though out there I’m sure, waiting for
verification by heart, united futures only.
One could insist on truth, but expect a dodge,
feelings flying fast for firmer ground, falling
into a sandpit of forgotten facts, unexplained pasts.
I yearn for the password, the secret code, the
combination that will unlock mysteries....

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My purse shows barest of bottom,
The returns, never so handsome,
What a Valentine Day
That would never well pay--
A flying kiss is all to me hast come!
Dear Valentine, vague kiss
Can’t do what can a Miss,
What matter can, cannot atom.   
_____________________
Happenings |03.03.2025|
Note: The Valentine Day came and passed. This man of the Limerick only now could get his P & L account ready.
...

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What is love,
but a fragile
promise
held together
by the barest 
thread.

So easily broken
if not carefully 
looked after.
So humbly rewarded
if treated with care.

Shown not through words,
but our actions,
for it's the little things
that make up 
why we love them.

It is one thing to say, 
'I love you', 
but how lovely it is
to be shown.
For actions have always
had a louder voice
than words itself....

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If I sow an infant seed
To bring a flower forth
From what seems 
A very dirty Earth

And drop some buckets of rain
Upon it every other day
Will it bloom or simply be
If then I up and walk away

What if I hung around 
Perhaps a song to sing
Hum or talk awhile longer
Or listened with a simpler smile offer

Would it want to know
Who it was that gave it love
Or merely be satisfied
With essentials the barest of...

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