Categories
Poetry

How Very Lovely

Oh, but those who feel like the wind!

How lovely they are.

How very lovely.

Categories
Poetry

The Lonely Soul

The lonely soul

is a beauty.

She is quiet,

so quiet

as she whispers her way

through the noise,

through the dark,

through the rain.

Sing a sweet song to her.

Call to her

and she shall hand you

a soft and thoughtful dream.

Categories
Poetry

How Is A Rose To Grow?

A rose to meet the morning bright,

to grow in cheer,

to gather life.

Yet day to day

the rose does wither,

day to day the rose does wither,

lost

beneath the foggy dreary.

Lost.

Beneath.

How is a rose to gather

honey sweet

from deep blue trees?

How is a rose to grow

in the dark

of uncaring

life?

How is a rose to grow?

Categories
Poetry

I Became The Sky

I could have stared at the sky for hours.

It was glowing.

Grey and orange; still against the crashing sea.

But it wasn’t the vision of the sunset that moved me.

It was the feel of it

within me.

So calm, I became the sky.

Peaceful.

Still.

And quietly waiting

for nothing at all.

Categories
Poetry

Beyond It All

I will always be here.

Feeling this depth of life,

remembering how much I have loved

and lost

and never regretted a moment.

Life has never attacked me,

though I’ve been broken by its force

many a time.

I try to remember:

on the other side of fear and pain,

there lives love.

Always, there lives love.

And my goodness.

I have loved.

Darling.

I have loved beyond it all.

Categories
Poetry

The Sound Of Night

My body is alive

with the sound of night.

How I hunger for this bliss.

How the melody of a simple tune

makes love to my senses,

and I am whole

like the wind,

like the sun,

like love.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Evermore

Hold my heart, dear music.

Let me float in the clouds,

on the sweetest of tunes;

let me hold this feeling, still,

while the moon wraps around me.

Sing it again, sweet Angel.

Evermore is the breath

of this beautiful, beautiful song.

Categories
Poetry

Just A Rose

A rose is just a rose

to those who choose

not to know her.

Categories
Poetry

Eternally

This silence

is the cloud I fall upon

when I don’t know where to fly.

How beautiful

just to float.

Here.

Now.

Eternally.

Categories
Poetry

At Five

Sometimes

I feel five.

Like the world is big

and I am small.

And there are kids all around

bigger than me,

louder,

scarier,

bolder than this softness

that folds me

like tissue.

(No one else folds like tissue.

Just me.)

The softness of me at five

lingers;

a scent

(like lavender)

on the breeze

of my soul.

The softness of me.

The softness of me.