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 Jan 2017 RJW
wordvango
what was  in the longest sleep I have ever had?
dreams of mistletoe or camels
the brunch with the Dalai Lama
or George Harrison's hair
in my hands,
and had I any dream?
I don't know....
just rest
for me,
a quiet peace.
a piece of God.
 Jan 2017 RJW
AJane
daffodils
 Jan 2017 RJW
AJane
I have dug
a hole
near the house
where you live

and lifted
the veins; daffodils
surgically
from the soil

they watch
from my window
so tall
and so yellow
 Jan 2017 RJW
beth fwoah dream
i.

under a flaming bridge
blue islands,
sky-stream of
light, as the tranquil
waters unfold,
dream of
visionary seers
and haunted rooms.

gold sun running
like a tide,
pads of echoing cloud,
reflections like
mirrors on
the hollowy
water.

ii.

oil on canvas
pond of daydream,
water wrapped in love
and flower.

sunken, bird of grey
wire, fallen stone,
rippling ghost.

iii.

flower of ghost,
ink lady of sapphire
melting and sinking
like lanterns
in a chine,
where the night
wanders and the stars
lean against the sky.

iv.

watery isle,
rivery summer golds,
trembling pond,
flower of the dragonfly
flower of white sun.

v.

shadows in the leaves
monet fire of gold,
strange indigos,
violet sky,
water-dragon of the pond
water-dragon of the flowers.
Once upon a time, when the world was a feeble and wild drop in the ocean of space, a small crack was opened in the universe. Through that crack fell a great Bear, and she was magnificent, fur mottled blue with the constellations trapped in her skin. Her steps shook the earth as she traveled, seeking a place of great peace, upon this speckled planet that was scarcely bigger than herself. Laying down beside a mountain, with thunder in her voice, she birthed three cubs, bright as comets. To her first cub, Rainin, she said 'you, my son, shall inherit the sky, bring it sunlight and storms and lay blankets of snow upon this land, you will be vast and endless for all time'. To her second son, Seuro, she spoke 'and you child, will inherit the sea, from an island peak you shall rule the roiling waves, bring tides and calm to the waters, you will herald the first age of all things'. And lastly, to her daughter, who was sun-bright and borne of stars, she told her 'Maidah, you will inherit the Great Plains and the green grasses of this earth, break the mold of it and shake it, but also bring rise to mountains that reach your brother in his clouded domain, and tear in two the plates of the sea from beneath your brother's feet. With your breath you will bring life from soil to seed, and you will be queen to all that walks and breathes upon the ground. This, to you, is my last gift'. And the great bear who passed through a rift in the universe, having gifted her children, sunk deep beneath the mountain into endless sleep. Still, she slumbers, and her children shake and shape what she has given, until they join her in morpheus' domain when their world is dust and the well of creation has dried. They will sleep peaceful under mountains, their great paw prints everlasting as they let that which they have shaped greet its own sleep, its own death, yet the stars will remember them,
and this too, is a gift.
You are my 11:11 wishes
Every shooting star
And dandelion seed.
Someone must have heard
My feverent prayers
What glittering mold did you come from
To be sculpted so well to me?
Eyes bluer than the ocean
That I have always felt flowing
In my heart, my veins
Hair black like the pitch night
That holds the stars I count
Hands, hands that radiate kindness
Seeping peace as they trace my spine
It is not fireworks when you hold me
It is the cackle of a wood fire
The familiar weight of a favourite book
The comfort of a well-worn mattress
When you hold me
I am home
I told the moon my dreams
Of gentleness and joy
And in those whispers of night
From starlight and tides
She created you
 Jan 2017 RJW
The Dedpoet
Month of January,
My words wander through
Your snow to gather
Crystalline Icycles and fragrance
From burning fires.
Come Winter, my love,
The grey days of chill
Warm the heart,
A blessed scape for holding
My lover drifting in white days,
The flakes fall as you approach
And form a memory,
Frozen in my eyes as though
The season were brought upon
Just for this moment.

Look, in my eyes,
Yours,
An angel walks in the snow
So that the cold sun could
Shinedown upon you,
Cotton and your rose petal
Cheeks, smile at me as
You shiver and kiss the crimson
Of your lips,
The season of Winter,
A reason to hold you....
 Jan 2017 RJW
bones
Somebody bundled
it into a clock
and slung it up high on a wall,

with numbers
like bars between us,
where there had been nothing before;

before,
my days had come open,
open and endless like sky,

but boxed on the wall
there looked no room for all
of the rest of my lifetime and I.
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