0

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.

~

0

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.

~

2

Faded Simile

I.

There are syllables swirling
blown through fingers
like kisses to the heavens;
love letters
running through my veins.

I tape poetry to my eyelids
and wake up in verse;

simile swirling in my coffee cup.

II.

There were pages penned
in a candlelit room;
notebooks hidden under the covers,

glass slipper rhymes
composed of dreams
in condensation
from weary eyes
and a faded simile.

III.

I saw your footprints
beneath disappearing ink;
snow covered paths you cleared
with loving sentences
fingertips brushing cheeks

lips upon quivering lips.

IV.

You never ended with question marks,
or frowned
upon ambiguous behavior,
you just stood
beside me, held me up

lay me down in wildflowers
like a gift
under the sun.

V.

I am broken, battered,
but devoted.
I am troubled, excitable, flawed,
but forgiven.

I stand,
even when I feel frail
smile,
mimic petals of a rose;

bloom, wilt,
and bloom again

0

Love Letter #40: Cadence

I pour myself into your words,
taste them like an elixir
and run head-first
into a field of alliteration
blooming like daffodils
between the pages
of unconditional love

letters, still breathing
your last syllables.

At the sound of your voice,
there were rivers, running,
stars dancing ribbons
around the moon

and there was me,

a tiny spark
within this vastness,

just waiting to become a light.

~
~Day 30 and final day of NaPoMo! (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

0

Love Letter #38 Poetic Device

I taped your words
to a quiet place in my mind
so that all I have to do
is close my eyes

to read you.

I eat, sleep and dream
poetry;
high on metaphor,
romanced by alliteration;

imagery like flowers
brings me to my knees
in a garden
of syllables.

Sprinkle my senses
with sweet assonance;

two lumps of inspiration in my morning coffee.

~
~Day 26 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

0

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)

0

Love Letter #37: Conception (Vignettes)

I.

I found you where the river meets willows
moons away from my loveliest imagination,
where jealous constellations
admire the conception of a love
expressed in glances away,
cheeks, blushing like roses
and the simplest twirl of tresses

with the loudest implications.

II.

Build me a castle
on the white beach
where you found me
a perfect sand dollar.

I don’t mind the twists and turns
we took to get there;
under vines, over hills
like our life;
glorious, uncharted,

reminiscent
of the unpaved road
to San Josef.

III.

Your breath, upon my neck
whispering like the breeze
just before the tide changes
and lips part
like the waves do
with a rush down my spine;
the same one I get
just before I close the door-

and the waft of your cologne settles
on the collar of my robe.

IV.

Did you ever notice
I leave my favorite pink lipstick
in the cup holder of your car,
and post-a-notes with a heart
in your lunchbag?;

Mementos
like the red box of letters
you sent me,
that I still keep close
even though you are near, now.

V.

I like how we sleep
closer than two could;
wrapped cocoon-like
interwoven limbs;
sheltered, like a second skin,
curves, valleys,
the metamorphosis of us.

~Day 22 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)