Limbo

I’ve worn a path
in circles
‘round begonias,

gone in limbo
under clotheslines;

an angel
escorting me
through the gate.

~

Wings

Her intricate lace
wraps a circle ‘round the sun;
shades of gold and brown pigment
play colors of night
like a fine instrument,

tones beckoning moonlight
and sleepy stars
in a symphony of light
reflecting feathered promises,
unfolding in an abrupt,
but loving change of scenery.

~
~~Day 23 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

Party Line

still remember the number
on Grandma’s black rotary telephone
(Pershing 7-6552)
and the sound it made
when I dialed;

the breaths between numbers.

Her slender fingers
forming half – circles

calling Safeway
to check the price
of day old bread.

I wish I had the chance now
to roll my eyes
when she asked me
to button my sweater,
hang a basket of clothes
on the line

or sit in Grandpa’s lap
when all the others were playing,
flipping through national geographic
and hearing old war stories

just one more time.

It is his birthday today.

With all this new technology,
do you think there’s a chance
I could face-time Heaven?

~

Love Poem #5 (to Sedona)

I fell in love with red rock
and a feeling, last summer
and now, I am homesick;
yearning to plant my feet
upon the -sacred- ground
which awakened my spirit,
contemplate clandestine
thoughts in conversations
with angels. Oh! your sky,
my breathless acceptance
of your tangents, energies;
quiet, but, oh so expressive
essence; the -aura- of you

~

Jigsaw

I didn’t have to miss you long

before stars fell
and wind blew your whispers
in my waiting ear;

words,
a yellow blossom
and incessant butterflies-

pieces you left of this heartbreak;
this puzzle I still can’t fit together.

~

~day 18 of a poem a day in April challenge for NaPoMo

Gardening

Even on those pitch-black evenings,
you show your round, angel – like face
keeping tune with chords of my sorrow.

Your glow penetrates my fingers,
pinning unmentionables on the clothesline

urging wind to whisp through,
leaving a trail of daffodil petals from him to me;
shadow of a new moon upon the skyline
transposing my melancholy to deja vu’;

these flowering hands making soft this waiting bed.

~

To Paris, With Love

I have only touched you in my dreams,
sipped coffee in pavement cafes
and danced in rain covered streets
without an umbrella, but tonight,
there is more than rain falling
under your pretty skies
and we can feel your heartbeat from here.
labored breaths joining in disbelief;
souls forming an invisible line
from our hearts to yours,
holding hands to the silence of peace.

~

One Stanza Led To Another

It was the way you reached down
to take my hands, gently;
fingers, pinched like flowers.
It was your gestures, your eyes
that said you loved me
before lips ever did.

It was my sigh-
breathless sighs
pulsating promise of todays;
of tomorrows painting themselves
symmetrical
in one swift glance.

It was the way birds looked on,
fluttering praise of such a union,
breezes accompanying –
branches, like harps;
regal instruments

for lovers like us.

It was your syllables
joined with mine in rhyme-
in silhouettes of alliteration
words: mine, then yours
exchanged for kisses,

whispered, danced, saved
for another day
upon a mountaintop,
love

in a one knee stance,
on a sentimental Sunday.

~

If I Could Play the Harp, I Would Serenade You Home

I can see through this melancholy window, watching the ripples;
as rain pitter-patters like soft touches wishing you home.

When I sit long enough for the sky to turn black, sun hiding
behind a blue November moon, I can almost hear your laughter;

such a sweet sound sighing in chords too faint to measure.

I have screamed your name from mountains to no avail
when you were right here waiting for my whisper so you can sleep,
like the angel you are, unencumbered and free to fly.

~

Seeing Stars

I don’t see the brown
on leaves of that weeping willow,
or the black of night,

I see green,
I see stars;
bright, shining realizations
of why we are here.

I don’t see wrinkles,
I see laugh lines.
I see silver, not gray
and that sweet, sideways grin;
that sarcasm I love about you,

and that makes me giggle.

We are moving, even when we’re still,
dancing when there’s no music.
Those mountains we are climbing
are no illusion.

We are going there,

going north
where clouds roll in like angels

going up

to a place you can’t use that compass
and you don’t need a ticket
to right this train.

~

Shine

Bend, kneel,
breathe
in the gentle flower

of knowing.

Dance the steps,
in colors
from sweet-tempered earth,
from azure skies shifting,

rolling doubtless clouds;
your arching silhouettes
shimmering, aching truth.

Oh, Light,

warm, swirling
in the center of your being
accenting your every flaw
as you flourish in them.

Oh, strength,
how you shimmer
with effervescence

that only angels can relish in

like constellations
with all night to shine.

~

White Pines

The night can be so cold
when wind plays sonnets
to weeping hearts.

Clasp your fingers,

let thoughts intertwine;
weave sorrow into prayer.

Let every star
paint his silhouette
in ribbons across the sky
when only divine whispers
can soothe the ache.

Send kisses upon angel wings
to waiting cheeks
each one,
leaving impressions
of you, like lullabies;

blankets of love
to keep him warm.

Let every flower
bloom his name,
every tree in White Pines
echo his vision,

his dream come true.

~
~This poem is for a friend, Gustavius and his family

He lost his son in a car crash yesterday. He is a friend on facebook whom I did not know very well before, but I feel so close to now in hearing of the tragedy he is dealing with. A message on facebook from his Dad

“His wish before he passed away yesterday was that there be a skate park built in White Pines near Arnold, CA. Goose had been designing it and even reached out to the local politician. He was sure that it would happen. I look to help make it happen. Please help spread the word ‪#‎whitepinesskatepark‬ ‪#‎lovelikegoose‬ ‪#‎goose_the_creator‬ RIP Gboo boo we all love you : )”