There's something about you
that glistens like glass.
I'm not talking of diamonds,
to put a price on it.
Nor the heavenly bodies,
for I have shut my window
even on the moon and stars.
But for you,
I have kept my eyes
and my arms open.
Like a devotee,
I follow your sunlit trail,
tiptoing around
your jagged edges.
Categories:
tiptoing, friendship, inspirational love, love,
Form: Free verse
Deft tiptoing of enemy feet
Trails progress of this ink;
Such that when one word
I pen I must pose to think.
Usurping hand’s derailment
Detracts my scribblings too;
So when firing thoughts stir,
I lose lucid inspiration's glue.
Weirdest passions do this quill
Assail with craftiest forces still;
Turning minutes of finest Muse
Into dullest bouts the poet rues.
And so what might this scribbler
Do to halt such thievish assaults;
Decadent schemes blunting wits,
Shoving this bard to idler's faults?
Categories:
tiptoing, abuse, allegory, betrayal, conflict,
Form: Verse
Waking to the early morning's skies starry night
Strolling past a Yuletide's display ? Frosty and Rudolf
His innocent red nosed reindeer in silhouettes their bright lights
Blowing kisses wrapped of prayers her kitty purrs it's love, she seeks ?
Tis hard to embrace the thought be not; about this globe where children dream
That love is pure no tears they'll weep ? Delusions nay, wars as hate nor apostasies....
Broken tiny hearts, racing through jungles hiding aneath dunes; left bleeding
Amid their emergency rooms ? Ribbons but no bows; an empty box the lot; tiptoing, His babies
Through tomorrow's open door her Angel a timeless, tree ? Joyous laughter Love's presents, everywhere.
Categories:
tiptoing, angel, art, autumn, love,
Form: I do not know?
Thinking perhaps that I was in love with myself ?
Mommy's precious baby daddy's little boy; bravely
Marching down their hallway tiny sword unsheathed
As swirling through the air; past her photographs these
Memories when I thought I saw a puddy kat disappearing
Beyound this blue door ? Holding my Bobby tight whispering
Into his furry eager ears; Sssssh, while tiptoing to her magical..
Mirrors where a thousand tales we have told ? Tis not I she cried.
Categories:
tiptoing, beauty,
Form: I do not know?