Moonflower

True beauty,

sometimes hidden
beneath the surface,

luminous to a chosen few
who have the perception
to see.

.

Scenic View

Picturesque love
a new perspective
our scenic view;
breeze and wildflowers
dancing at my feet;

green of summer

still warming
these autumn bones.

Wildflower

Always one in the crowd,
imperfect, sporadic,
but, donning love.

If flowers are normal,
I am content to be

a weed.

.
Day 7 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

In the Garden

Her complexion, radiant,
scent of roses on her hands,
and laugh lines

to show she loved well.

.

Fresh Ink

The walls they built
couldn’t contain her heart
any longer

as violet clouds
parted for the sun
and light shone through keyholes;
love flowed
through cracks in the doors

until window panes burst
like fresh ink
spilling poetry

exposing a kaleidoscope
of prismatic hues
dancing

in symmetry with her heart.

~

Welcome Sign

Driving through the desert,
I take blurry pictures of cacti,
find faces in clouds,
anticipating red rock formations
and an abrupt change of atmosphere
when we pass that welcome sign
that I can never capture on camera

just beyond the second roundabout
where our lives took a dramatic turn
two years before.

Despite two flights
and a long drive
from a ninety degree Phoenix
with a broken air conditioner,
and growling stomachs,

all we can do
is breathe it all in;
this place, this air,
this energy

this return to sacred ground

where horizontal and vertical
come together
in multi-colored stones

to form a cross.

Sepia

When winter comes
to steal away what’s left
of my red-petaled heart,
I could count the ways
to love the sky,
whether jealous stars
or sun, hesitant to shine,
it is a constant reminder
of the tiny dot over the I;
the wonder
that leaves our reflection
lackluster.

Oh, these rivers that move
with or without us;
sigh of wind
between perpendicular oaks
and a shaken Earth.

~

Laugh Lines

Scars are just beauty marks
and your heart is full of them;
open wounds to catch grace
and riches of humility:
kindness, compassion
and all the things
material wealth can’t fix.

Peel off the mask and shine
in your uniqueness.
The twinkle of an eye
and laugh lines
won his heart moons ago
as softness of stars
find love inside you
and echoes catch his gaze.

~

Syllable Envy

I love makeup
just like any other girl,
pink lip pouts; sultry,
smokey-eyed glances,

but behind the glitter,
adjectives sway,
provocatively,
pirouetting into stanzas

as metaphor turns his head,
alliteration catches the eye.

Some guys adore legs
sashaying down the runway,
skirt swirling hello
to adoring onlookers,

but most men know,
there’s nothing
quite so alluring

as a lady
behind a typewriter.

Too Many Fireflies

I.

When you are small,
the world is massive;
tiny hands
chasing lightening bugs,
fingers clasping in prayer,

borrowing faith
from the pocket
of grandma’s sweater.


II.
Glitter in her hair,
caution in her step,
she only knows
fairytale endings
gone bad,

broken heart pangs
from a boy
she thought she knew

from a tender moment
and feelings, too often
worn on a sleeve.


III.
No one ever said
she would have to fly
one day,

but, she never crawled,
just leaped through life.
searching for just one constant

and she found him
wrapping her up like a princess.

So much for happy endings.
He covered the whole sky
with those fireflies-

too many to see the stars.





~

 

Monday Mornings

Fondness is a tremble; a quiver of lips
like the shaking of an apple tree,
sweetness raining red upon fragile hearts.

When the door closes in the morning,
his scent still fills your head;
last night’s whispers still lingering
as stars inside the lace of your pillowcase.

~

Buried Treasure

I sat on a rock,
the sound of waves
against a submissive shore,

and I still remember
the way the sun caught his hair
and bounced off of his tender smile
that morning

as he reached for the sand dollar
I had been dreaming of
since last summer.

~