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The art was most masterful on the dark canvas

Within the thick of night his hand was full of sweep  
beneath the Muskan moon the artist quivered not
Etching silver dollar stars the artist took a leap
as he painted up the sky with orbs of sparkling dots

Celestial objects bright as light, a candle spark
moonlight, starlight, airglow, all a  work of art
Applying white on black creating a celestial ark
he mastered in the light with darkness off the chart  

Tinted colorants of amber midnight grains of gold  
every brushstroke took him, to a journey home
Van Gogh signatures and visions stories yet untold  
all night long he painted, from a sonic neo zone  

Light to dark, with different distinction
he played shadows with God's bric a brac  
Twas' a Masterpiece of fact and fiction
Oh !   He really had the knack !
Quote by author: If love had a thousand faces, they would all look like yours
Your visage is what I'd seek first in my lost and found, box.  

I'd feel for the corners of my box, with nimble fingers
eyes closed I'd  brail  the contours of your missing face
like a schoolchild pining for a spark of self esteem, I'd linger
on words last spoken, before you faded out of place

If love had a thousand faces I'd see only yours for all eternity
lost in a sea of despair, I'd search for you far and wide
like a mother craving for a child's return, I'd scour the city
rummaging the streets, look in all the places you could hide

If love had a thousand faces I would never look for anything new,    
I'd take delight in the likes of you and only you.
Galaxies away the echo of stars makes her bloom
this rose made of warm inside a heated hand *
Fine tuning her soul to the chime of a thousand crystal pieces  
she blasts out and planets resound within her Chalice heart;
Resonating inside her, the peeling bells of Notre- Dame
contain her whole Universe...
Tucked safely inside an IVEAN cloak she lives free
no longer part of this global world.  
A star of multiple constellations, she belongs only
to One identifiable light,  HIS  own.
Evolving endlessly in time she reverberates and rings  
entering God's vestibule of heaven without a single sound
Wearing the immortal crown of existence she delves  
in, a crowning moment of glory
The mirror shatters in a million tiny pieces and all of truth  
arrives, making her whole once again.
Incline your ear and press it to the earth dear soul on fire
feel the moist wet clod of God's rich dirt and don't speak a word;
Listen to the sound of your own hear beat
as it thrums through Mother nature's girth
move slowly, like the mollusk does
across The Sacred Land of its birth
Life is a song unsung, if you don't have love  
so sing a canticle of Glory to the heavens
and for goodness sake look up child
recall the lullabies your mother sang to you
the Heroic Anthems of your Father's story
and let your song be heard
from the mountains high !

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2024
hospital gown sealed
nightfall and twilight gloaming
black and white stark tiles  

                

a giant snowflake falls to the ground
a cadence of silent whispers surround  
a dying rose a heartbeat, confounds
      
a giant snowflake falls to the ground
a dying rose a heartbeat, confounds      
a flower goes to heaven a soul abounds
  
a giant snowflake falls to the ground
a cadence of silent whispers surround  

                  *


Sundown fantasies dipped in the artistry of a diamond jubilee
centennial moments of living, death is at her door, she cries to  
Rumi stars as she wraps her skin with light and sinks, within.

Haiku/Triolet/Sijo
She's like the nigh, a lampshade lit across the room
also a rose in the summer garden, ready to bloom  
She's like a thousand stars surrounding the moon
a celestial scene of beauty here then gone too soon

Ink  Empress of the site she comments like an Angel
always kind and always perceptive she enables
Ink Empress of my heart, you make me grateful
for you read my poetry, but you never label...  

You are a cyber friend from afar a leading star
a paridot of the sky with a hue one cannot mar
Without soul blemish you always win by far
for your kindness and gentleness, is on par

Ink Empress of the night you contain so my sight,      
that even the quill of a bird, can see your light.  

This is a tribute to a dear poet who always makes us feel at home,  
and if you haven't read your poetry yet, then please drop by her
page and have a read, of this amazing lady.
He was an ancient warrior from times of old
back in the days when the sun was new
and the stars at night were brilliant blue  
like the canopus star he once knew

Often, he was found rummaging the forest
looking for ther rarest mushrooms
as the eagles flew he counted tree rings    
indenting the roots of ancestry wings  

Then one day, he was reborn again
in an era of squabble filled with wars
silence became an oddity full of slew  
and "The Sacred" a rarity hidden in full view

They tagged him with bipolar with doctorate degree
for this was a world of medicine and mental deficiency
yesterday he howled at the moon and cloaked the stars
today he is a sad man longing for a trip to Mars

He the ancient warrior of days of old
fights the good battle everyday, with tools of old
mistletoe on oak, he held his staff
all the time knowing his time would pass

Written by: Mystic Rose
For a friend who suffers from bipolar
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