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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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Charcoal Outline

If shadows could speak,
mine and yours would converse
about the fragile life
​of daffodils,

the softness of constellations
and the way light billows
through strands of our hair;

silhouettes sleeping

within the length
of one another.

~

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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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Dahlias

All I wanted was to stop the noise;
the bleak conversations in my head.

My whole life has been words-
words and thousands of tears.
You brought me baubles and beads,
gold, shiny things, but, oh!,
what I would have given
for a few moments of your time.

I see you standing there
your hands holding long, red stems

after you stole my heart.

~
Day 29 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

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The Saddest Season

Blooming can be the saddest season.
Grow, spread,
wither away

like petals
from a tombstone
covered in last Winter’s poinsettias.

I closed my window ,
drew the blinds,
wandering through the wildflowers
of my mind

to the last glimpse of sun;
feelings following the scent
of honeysuckles

all the way to the end of April.

 

 
~Day 28 of NaPoMo *a poem a day in April for National poetry month)

2

Rock Bottom

When dreams take a back seat
to destiny;
darkness hovering

like that old friend you
thought you’d never see again,
rubbing his hands together,
just before the fall.

You find out what they meant
by rock bottom;

try to crawl, scratch
and claw your way out,
when you realize

your saving grace
was there all the time
waiting to take your hand,
pull you to your feet
and wipe away the hurt.

Press in close

and let rushing winds
resuscitate tattered sails.
Breathe deep,

spread those beautiful wings
and just fly.

~
~(I am penning a poem a day from November 24th through December 25th, 2016 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day #7)