Categories
Poetry

To Live

The wind will call and you will know.

And it won’t tell you why,

and it won’t tell you what

but you will follow

blindly,

hopefully,

until the sun peaks ’round the bend

and the horizon dazzles

in ways far beyond possible.

Indigo, apricot nights.

Warm breath on starlit cheeks.

And you will know

(oh, you will know)

what it was like

to have lived.

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Categories
Poetry

Tomorrow’s Rose

How delicate it is, the garden of eternity.

Interwoven; the past, present, future

of our sleepy meadow, dear.

One cannot possibly know how

or what

the wind of today will drift to the valley

of tomorrow.

One can only hope to gather roses in arms

and lay them down, admired.

But what of tomorrow?

A dried rose is surely a beauty.

A delight preserved from time gone by.

Take these roses, fine.

Take this heart

and scatter my soul freely

into the arms of the dreamers, next.

Tomorrow’s rose.

Today’s quiet and careful sun.

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Categories
Life

Elf

I just watched Lord of the rings, again;

I’m certain I’ve missed my calling as an Elf.

Twirling leaves, swaying, falling.

Flowing gowns, floating on air.

Softness.

Romance.

Light and trees.

I’m certain I’ve missed my calling as an Elf.

Oh well.

There’s always next time.

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Categories
Poetry

The Wish

It would be okay,

I believe,

If you were to make a wish

and put it in your pocket.

It would be okay,

especially so,

if the wish was sweet.

For a wish made carefully

is often much sweeter

if forgotten

(in a pocket)

and found

somewhere along the drifting line

of life.

Somewhere lovely,

of course.

Somewhere really quite lovely,

I would think.

Categories
Poetry

Little Light

What colour shall I paint my sky?

Soft-pink and grey:

clouds of spun sugar,

sweet dreams that drift me to life?

Bring me a cool breath of clarity.

Bring me a little light,

and I will shine it, wherever I may go.

Though the roads may crumble

and darken

and fade,

I will have my little light.

I will have my sweet dreamy sky.

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Categories
Poetry

Flight

Her flight

was sweet.

And every bit as magical

as the hummingbird

sipping honeysuckle

beside her.

Categories
Poetry

All The Lovely Things

If I were a forest,

there would be afternoon sun

slicing through my trees.

And little white rabbits

would hop along the way

between the daisies

and the rushing river

and I would know

this was the sweetest day.

If I were a forest,

I would be home.

For me.

And for all the lovely things.

Categories
Poetry

Moon Keeper

She sat upon the third star from the moon

and watched as the Moon Keeper

lit the brightest night light

of them all.

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 20. This Night

Under dim lights of orange,

whisper to me

darling,

of the places your soft touch

will sail me to

this night.

Categories
Life

Sweet Muse

Come to me, sweet muse.

Float into my heart and wake me from sleep.

Light the fire within and shine me on my way

for a thousand lifetimes.

I see you, sweet muse, for what you are to me.

A million dreams to share.

A million dreams

to unlock the pure and gentle ecstasy of the world.

woman open arms while closed eyes smiling photo
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