Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  Oct 2019 Jesse stillwater
Petunia petal’d tear drops
on saffron colored morns
fall deep in the shadows
where sunshine is only a reflection
of the beauty once shared
Clouded days sing dreary sonnets
and all other butterflies are sad,
for those cherished wings
of brilliant colors
are gone from this field
Now a misty shade of gray
lingering in the thoughts
of one so missed…
finds the garden gates locked,
never to open again
Where rainbows once shared blue hydrangea skies
and daffodil promises carried our smiles,
sorrow now gathers in shapeless corners,
missing this butterfly
all had so come to adore
and the earth weeps…
  Jan 2019 Jesse stillwater
You look beneath each unturned stone
where four leaf clover shrouds the path
To wonder, thinking all alone,
what brought about this aftermath

As daisies clamor ‘bout the field
and dragonflies abandon hope
When orchards passing off their yield
will find it hard to even cope

Lest not a day of future themes
reflect this distance you now feel
For merely but a stack of dreams,
horizon’s light may soon reveal

So take this orchid from its stem,
a small reminder of the past
And question not who follows them
but cherish every foot step cast

Come hold your head up to the sky
as banners wave and bluebirds sing
Extend your hand to passers by,
much more than just a thoughtful thing

For life is but a fleeting friend
not here for very long at all
It’s up to you to just transcend
and rise above before the fall
Jesse stillwater Jan 2019
There's a sharp frosty switchback that never sees the sun in winter
  skies of blue. The frost heave cut-bank rocks tumble down to the
side of the road,  in the ice shard mottled ditch lay frozen stiff

Tall Sitka spruce marbled gray shadows mat the sparsely traveled
  corridor, paved with potholes, where the roads have no names
Sometimes listening quietly to the bare stillness, there are
  rhetorical questions heard in the silent reverie's say:

                        "Have you ever been afraid?"

The tree-line gaps above the jagged gray stone ravine, disappearing
  down the rugged mountain shade, falling into the pillow-top fog bank blanketing the canyon's murmurs below — headed towards the ocean

Crystalline spring waters gurgle up roadside — out of nowhere,
  where tired boots stand in reverent contemplation as it all sings out  harmoniously to the trees in the key of silence;   it was there
  in a gust of restless forbearance heard the frozen peacefulness  say:

                         "Have you ever felt alone?"

Gathering a deep breath of marbled gray shadows, silence bears
  a loud holler's scorn — echoing back and forth down canyon walls,
with the spirit of a voice a multitude strong,  evanescent
                             as winter's outgoing tide.

                      January 2019 — Jesse Stillwater
winter thoughts mused by an understanding poet friend's words
Jesse stillwater Dec 2018
It was Winter 1st
   not long ago,
the longest night
lay bare next to me
    like a dream
     that passes
     then recurs —
hearing the silence
   whisper softly
as a colorless echo

      Withal —
    the shortest
half light minutes,
grey wintry mood
  without hope
   of blue sky
impending lightly:

   even a glass
      half full
under a solstice
     full moon,
  is only a glass
     partly full
  of moonlight

Twice as much
still leaves you
   half empty;
  and every tear
tastes the same
     in winter

Jesse stillwater — winter 2018
Thank you for reading, wherever you may be
Jesse stillwater Dec 2018
In a distance an emptiness echoes,
another lonesome dove's sigh
is carried away with the leaves

silence annulled by tempest gusts
as late autumn winds
belatedly lay bare the trees;

the sad song in the wind
repined for golden days
bowing sun ripened amber fields
dancing with the moment's sway

now windswept wild feathers  
chase after the waning sunlight
bucking prevailing headwinds
just beneath heaven's glow

sail away! — sail away!
way up on high!
O' birds of a feather
sail away!

begone — bygones — begone
homeward bound
from north and south
on  an algid heavenward flight

Jesse Stillwater ... winter solstice ... 2018
Jesse stillwater Dec 2018
The morning fog
paints the forest hillside
an ashen shade of pale
dawn shadows
arising — stumbling
through the dark,
like some kind
of disappointment
drifting in the memory
of a forgotten dream

a sigh settles
in a fragile breath
upon the windowpane
then drools down
upon the sill
like gathered dust
on an empty
picture frame

a sudden gust
of loneliness brings
a reawakening shiver
whispering silently
as an old violin
without a bow,
tuned to a forlorn
  hidden ache —
in the quiet darkness
of your memories

Jesse Stillwater
November 2018

The Corrs - Everybody Hurts UNPLUGGED -
Amazing version of the R.E.M. Song
Next page