Spring blossom as old willow rejuvenate.
Our cup of wine has wilt since last autumn,
leaving behind only dried wine-cup.
Old feathered red moon grazed past fog,
I sat by the cold dreary stone.
Like last summer, I held a wine-cup in hand.
Kneeled, a splatter of bitter taste splash your grave,
I still remember our vow last autumn.
The two cup were filled last autumn,
this spring, I can only pour one.
Fickle is the
swirling haze of purple clouds
whispering phantom pleasure of a fleeting crowd
soft lilac and sorrowful wisteria
musing with the late spring’s hysteria
I am posting poems with pictures to better conjure the imagination in my poetic instagram account! You can find me in @xsummerblues if any of you are interested :)))
Grow your flowers
Grow your plants
I'm waiting, for you, spring
The warrior walks
Dawn's first light in the forest
A babbling stream
The birds are chirping
He wades through the tide of mist
Around his ankles
The stream is ahead
Dropping his weapon he falls
The battle was won
He saved his village
But suffered a grievous wound
He reaches forward
The ice cold water
Brings wet fingers to his lips
A slight refreshment
Savoring the taste
A bed of wild flowers
A perfect cushion
Weapon behind him
He thinks about his breathing
With grass on his face
His wife and child, inhale
The days long battle, exhale
His people saved, still
Vibrant colors of spring, still
His daughter's face, still
Cold water on his lips, still
Birds are chirping, still
Wild flowers, still
Rays of dawn pierce the trees, still
A babbling stream
Oct 7, 2020
Believing in love, for me,
Is how in winter the trees,
Barren and cold with stories untold,
Believe in prosperity of spring,
I believe in the good you will bring.
For me, believing in love,
Is how the cosmos above,
Shines fierce not knowing of eyes she’ll pierce,
Unfamiliar to who she gives light,
I believe in you through darkest night.
Believing in love, for me
Has admittedly never been easy,
Though navigating your eyes is daunting at times,
I do not believe I’m ever lost
I believe in you,
No matter the cost.
I love watching Spring bloom in the reflection of your eyes.
I look up
I look down
I looked behind and all around
and I’ve searched
but nothing could be found
and I stared
but there is nothing there
do people say
that spring is in the air
Oh winter where are thy host?
Slain by the rising stems of spring
Bent to her will;
Restless, to plant her children
On the rotting flesh of thy comrades.
Fallen has thy stronghold
On the field of warfare,
Paid by the price of thou lust,
For thou sought to extend thy reign,
Oh foolish one,
Aren't thou but a cog,
Only summoned when appointed?
With thy sacred wit
Take thy seat in the midst of men, and
Massage thy hands on earth's body,
That thy scent melts
Blast the horns of victory
To wake our furry neighbours,
For the dread of winter
Lays under thy feet.
And draw out the curtains
Of terror to welcome
Rays of glee from on high;
Hushing the howling winds
With bird of bliss,
Singing songs of praise, unto