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Against This Present Darkness

Eyes rise and fall
with simple shading of clouds
upon a face;
a bowed head
seeking shelter
from raging tempests;

from love’s ache.

Night comes quietly
like snowflakes in winter;
like the whisper of psalms
​ beyond candlelit curtains.

I keep your words with me
soft syllables of grace,
sweet shelter

in the midst of my storm.

~

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Cleansed

I used to wait for rain
stand, palms up, pleading
for earth to fall away

so I could bloom;

sat under that weeping willow
many a Sunday, sleeping
under the swish of limbs,
tremble of railroads
echoing at my back-
ears attuned
only to cardinal’s song
to fade the noise
of Monday coming,

It took years of suffering
to open my wings,
to close the umbrella
to feel the son;

to feel the sun.

~

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Love Letter #43: Finding You

I happened upon your syllables,
between pages of love poetry,
drew hearts around the letters
of your name, following mine
and filled myself

with a new perspective.

I watched a flirtatious moon
and its surrounding stars
dance a delicate finale,
blue as midnight,

like the dreams formulating
in my head

and as the sun rose,
like a swirling of skirts,
all of the faded wildflowers
I walked past before,
bloomed at my feet,

pink as these blushed cheeks
that rose and fell
for you.

~

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Arranging Flowers

He didn’t carve initials
in that oak tree we lay beneath,
but, we tasted syllables.
rolling off the tongue,
from his lips to mine
and back again,
quenching our thirst
with the juice of poetry
dripping down pink curves;
fingers finding metaphor
within tangled limbs-
searching for alliteration
in a handful of wildflowers;
breaths meeting
in the middle
of love’s sentence

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Morning Glory

 

Oh, light, posing promise,

                        like posies,

        picked apart, strewn;

             hidden,

        like morning glory,

 

                                blooming

                below bedroom windows.

 

Oh, jealous moon

     tempting twilight,

        with its scattered stars

 

         swirling,

 

  like the thoughts

         you left me with.

~

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Love Letter #42: Blue

Gentle soul,
my baby boy; quiet,
quirky, standoffish,
except when I sing.
When you smile,
the skies open
and I am flooded
with a Mother’s love
for her gentle lamb.

Those brown eyes,
they bring me to tears;
sweet freckled face,
sometimes serious,
always loving, caring;
innocence envelops you,
my angel, artist, thinker
in a baseball cap;
our special gift.

You hit the ground running,
bouncing, Bubba,
silly, bundle of joy.
The sound of your voice
leaves chests beating soft,
like your thoughts,
beaming with imagination,
sweet, like your heart.

~

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Love Letter #41:Pink

One sunny day in July,
my eyes counted twenty digits
beaming proud Mommy;
little more than a baby, myself,
but, oh, I did love her
from the very first glance;
timid round, little brown eyes,
those tiny fingers
wrapped around mine.

It was a lovely December morning,
Another raven haired blessing
with pink blushing cheeks;
a gift, a miracle,
wrapped in a pastel blanket
fluttered away with my heart.
A flurry of butterflies, swooned
like musical notes to my ears.

Decades later,
a pretty little blossom
slender, wrapped around me,
Oh, my heart,
– -skipping beats,- –
melting like chocolate
on her face.
Graceful, ballerina;
my sweet, sunshine girl.

and just a year ago,
a tiny new blessing
sashays into this world;
a little wildflower, unique,
beautifully perfect
darling little giggling
blue-eyed angel baby,
blowing kisses

and oh, how I love them.

~