The salt spray caressed my smooth skin
Beneath a sunlit vast expanse,
Where wet waves start their swirling spin,
Printing sweet memory`s soft trance.
A lantern’s light careens across the sea,
keeping pace it challenges the moonlight.
Tossed a bit of its awe-inspire to me,
illusions deftly pick pockets tonight.
What ifs vehemently showing themselves
send you right into that thirsty mirage.
Alternate version packed onto the shelves,
it’s forgotten. Why give it a massage?
You’ve electrified a spark in the dark,
so unfair not to leave all this dormant.
Running in the shadows is my trademark,
so peaceful there I can avoid this want.
With the dawn all of my uneasy dies,
I can see what IS here with sunlit eyes.
I rearranged just two pieces of furniture:
A small table, a small ottoman with old suture.
I placed your orange faux flowers in a vase
Atop table on orange crochet cloth as a base.
This table display centered before the window
Of your spacious living room, in the sun's glow.
Your furniture as always shall stay the same.
Memories linger, of all the people who came.
In our sunlit living room, our loved ones cried.
I as well, for days, a week after you had died.
I thought I'd be strong enough to remain here,
But I must heal elsewhere, it's become clear.
I know your spirit is watching over everywhere
That you've been, alive and gone; here, there.
I know when the sun shines into your mansion,
It is your soul giving us utmost divine affection.
SUNLIT CROWN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn brings a sunlit crown, smiling upward at the black, star-studded heavens. The dawn is the invitation to the day, a the gift of the present.
the world awakens slow
from slumber's heavy veiling
morning's gentle touch
silent darkness fades
morning's warmth begins to seep
into the heart's core
the breeze lifted her sunlit hair
danced to and fro a moment there
her flowery skirt swayed
to a melody no orchestra played
Golden sunlight, soft and bright,
Filters gently, warm with light.
Through the branches, high and low,
Warming all the earth below.
Azaleas blush in pink and red,
Geraniums lift each vibrant head.
Roses whisper, petals wide,
Bottlebrush stands with crimson pride.
Rhododendrons in magenta hue,
Hydrangeas paint the world in blue.
Zinnias sparkle, bright cascades,
Marigolds glow in golden braids.
Star jasmines mist the air with fragrance,
Butterflies heed lantanas’ bright summons.
Ladybugs twirl, insects glide,
Nature’s rhythm sparks a smile.
The pool, a mirror in the light,
Cool and crisp—a shining sight.
I dip my feet, the world feels kind,
A grateful heart, a tranquil mind.
What I don’t display,
Is good that you don’t see.
The music moves as you play,
Spirals and fades away from thee.
The weeping willow tree,
Smiling before me.
Que sera, sera.
You can only see my every flaw.
Like those from our previous lives,
We march unto an ungodly death.
Not knowing for what we thrive,
With our cold and shallow breath.
Up the snowy mountains depth,
Dusty grounds the wind hath swept.
To the nest, the mother bird returns,
Only to discover that her eggs were burned.
No tree remains,
Because she only wanted more.
Let us sing woe, not praise,
For this has happened before.
Is a swelling crescendo in the score,
Truly what we are searching for?
A piece of information,
Used to make a whole new creation?
These Sunlit Signs,
Are leading us to the right story.
Read between the lines,
The empty void of purgatory,
The telltales of your own glory.
Just stop and listen for me,
To understand the meaning of you and I.
There may be signs reading,”The end is nigh”.
Golden rays drenching
The long-shadowed vast tundra
Thawing nature's grudge
in morning light
sunlit curls in rendezvous
with the wind
13 October 2023
"Sunlit"
The sunlight
burnt their skin
they felt alive
at least
they began
to live again
bare legs bare feet
cool water,
the sensual
diving in
lovers wrapped
up in the ocean
of another world
in themselves
alone
but not alone
Sunlit
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
artist: Martine Emdur (Australian, Sydney)
In a field of green, where the sun shines bright,
Dewdrops glisten in the morning light.
A child skips and twirls, with a pen in hand,
Ready to write his first poem, in this enchanted land.
He stops and stares, at the beauty all around.
The flowers, the butterflies, and the buzzing sound.
Inspiration flows, as he puts pen to paper,
Words forming akin to magic, in a world of wonder.
Sunlit dewdrops are similar to diamonds on the grass,
And colors of the flowers are a sight that will not pass.
The child's heart sings, with each word she writes,
His first poem is complete, a creation so bright.
As he reads it out loud, the world seems to pause,
The beauty of his words was a case for applause.
The sunlit dewdrops, and the child's first poem,
A moment to cherish, forever to be a totem.
Written: June 08, 2023
Standing silently, she smiled
Spinning, spinning sunlit sky
Standing, surrounded
still, still
Scatter, settle
sit slowly
Stand, smile sunlit sky
in the mellow morn
a revelry of roses
pervasive heat, grapes
glossy trees tremble
day's marching into the gold
butterfly frenzy
the day star twinkles
entering doors and windows
housewarming party
a straw hat parade
in many styles and colors
boulevard boogie
Do not in your spirit, let disquietude roam.
Close your ears, to each hour’s lies spoken.
Or, you won’t know this…but your heart is
verily broken!
Your spirit looks for resentment, then your
soul becomes its home.
Satisfied poets are grateful for what they have done.
Be gentle as a soft cloud, for all poets here are of
rain-bowed vicissitudes.
Living in varied global-latitudes,having mixed attitudes.
Forget not, gratefulness under God’s golden sun!
8/16/2022
~1~
sunlight creeps along
glance across berry bushes
faeries tittering
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