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  Jul 2020 Rachel Lady Durand
Redaviel
Bouquet of pink roses wrapped in conversations
All I wanted was to see you happy and fill the vase
Your door will never be wide open for this affection
But I'm happy that I'm allowed at the doorstep place
Because I'm the lucky winner of past rejections
I'm bad at connecting strings and keeping bonds
Yet the doorbell still rings a welcoming sound
And when I stand on the welcome mat, the world warms
Because I'm the lucky winner in your embracing arms
her
the stars came from two things
one that comes from dust
and the other from her eyes
stars galaxies her love ph
The distant hollow of the high mountain pass
swallows the setting sun as it steals away southbound
behind the coastal mountain's tangerine sunset hued silhouettes
Mulberry plashed shadows pointing northward
across the evergreens outstretched dimming,
beneath the waning fade of each fleeting eventide

Sundown ebbing asunder the wafting daylight,
each gloaming of the day, helplessly a moment sooner past,
transfixed further south beyond yesterday's passing azure
The lazy days of summer escape unbounded,
nomadic as the sea I've seen sail away before;
evanescent as the beauty of the bloom summer days beheld
and the memory of the fragrance they exhale

The nebulous weight of the gravity is consciously denied
by the truths a human heart beholds
A moment’s epiphany afflicts like a rogue wave in a calm sea;
the only thing my heart ever wanted remains out of reach

Everything my heart needs consciously surrendering
to the poignant passing moment's beauty,
the falling sun at distance sets more suddenly now
Lost in the undeniable certainty
life's imminent season's change

Eyes drawn stubbornly from presence to a sky so far away,
knowing there'll be no restitution for the welling sense of loss...
A bitter sweet song mummers in the silence of the absorbing spell,
summer's sun stained pages of watermarked soul scribbles,
time tattooed reparation for the indelible ache
of a harsh grey winter loneliness

Perhaps too familiar, this whelming Déjà vu
that tears my soul;     that tugs at these roots
but cannot sever their sacred grasp
But for now, eyes fixed to the sun's
inevitable tightening tether hence —
to wear weary each fraying thread's  impending break

Each sunset leans a deeper angle southward
as it slips down through the firwood shadows;
illuminating other faraway latitudes
far beyond the distant horizon skies

The preordained continuum unfolding what will be ...


someone you used to know ... September 11, 2017 ... 7:30 PM
He knocked on my door
I let him in
his beauty profound
from ethics so sound
his purity, goodness good guide good dad
here right on time for which I'm glad
finally sunday morning in bed all day
with crumpled newpapers discarded
cross words resolved
the times here and now
examiner brings softest touch
telegraph wires touch and hold
star signs point to planetary collision
bright and bold,
starcrossed lovers find alchemical gold
If only
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