Absence is a period with a period.

Visible, not visible, and repeat,
the mighty feat
the enduring human spirit
in the faith of subsidence of pain
that the book on the table
will be picked up and read again.

It keeps us going
the strength in the sense
too real is the presence.

Then a day
the book is taken away
the loved pens an ode
of absence definite
without a period.

The last fortnight has been hard, made me strong in some places, and weak in some.
Sorry friends to be away.
Tonya Maria Dec 2017

One hand in the air
One on the ground
As orange and red leaves
Fly free, unbound
Twirling from the tallest
Maple tree
I dream on the eve of December
My basket is filled
With twigs and pinecones
Remnants of a summer..
When love was known
Blanketed in stars
On the forest floor
I dream on the eve of December.
Pressing all of my dreams
Between the leaves
of this book
Imprinting each page
With past dreams forsook
Collecting the promise
Of season's change
I dream on the eve of December.

“Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different?”  C.S. Lewis
Tonya Maria Nov 2017

Each leaf tossed,
a season’s lost...
May death,
fall gently...

Tonya Maria Jul 2017

While I have memories,
While I can still capture the image
Of your serene, beautiful face,
Just a fleeting glimpse will do,
The sun, a prisoner in your hair,
Mischief rioting in your eyes,
Tenderness teasing your smile,
You shall live in my heart,
Within the hearts of many,
Always, my darling, always,
While I have memories.

Written for Tonya Maria, With love and feeling, Paul M Chafer.
  Jun 2017 Tonya Maria
Jeff Stier

Eternity's cogs
geared and ratcheted
to the chain of time

We settle for the simple
ignore and refuse to witness
the obvious glory
of this world

insist on a miserly view
a pinched token

Then the night
closes in
an embolism erupts
into silence

I take a different view
hold out hope
for far horizons
settle for nothing
and struggle to drive
a hard bargain
with one who holds
all the cards

In the end
I expect beauty
a bright light
and a chilling plunge
into the grey Pacific

I hope for more
of course
a taste of watercress
a glass of wine
and an epiphany

All paid for by grace.

  Jun 2017 Tonya Maria

the way life used to be
     isn't quite what I miss.
        it's each individual
         moment, lapsing
           over and over
             one another--
           to create the
     perfect image
  of everything
I have lost.

Tonya Maria May 2017

Somewhere, between the simple, slow, and quiet
She found him, far away from the touristy crowd
Shirt untucked, canvas slung over his shoulder.
His warm skin, sweet salty
Leftovers from his affairs with the sea...
She hungered for his taste
As her lips traced each of his pulses
Throbbing with life, so vital, so intense...

He found her organic, neatly tucked away in the coastal hillside.
Her scent, as elemental as her beauty.
Her eyes, the violet that blooms from the Jacaranda tree.
Armeria, painted her lips a soft spanish pink.....
He charted her every detail in his mind.
He navigated to points of interest.
His compass, his heart.
His hands, her pleasure.
Their love...
The earth and sea.

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