I stay away from the cemetery at night for that is where he lives
I call him the Demon head, and he has horns  of alabaster calcite
every time I visit my friend's grave, I always break out in hives
cuz he is always there shedding his horns, all through the night

I light my lantern and walk with a mask on in case he's hiding
bidding my time I smoke a cig or too, and wait for the daylight
he never comes around here, behind the aluminum siding  
when dawn finally arrives, I am free from his kryptonite

Dancing pumpkins, roiling breath of cadavers and body rots
deadly snakes and big fat bats that fly into cracked empty pots
Demon head with all his rotting diplomats cannot shed fear  
when it comes to the likes of him, well I stay clear.....

I stay away from cemeteries and Demon's with horns of calcite
cuz when they shed, the hives begin to itch with all their might.

White lotus of love you are always a promise  
you with your petals soft and ready to open
why do you entice me to dream like a sleuth
looking for signs everywhere, are you youth?  

Egyptian beauty of grace I remember your face
you send shivers down my spine warm as wine
this little thing we have together , pure heather
feather me with your kisses but don't go away

White lotus "I call you Hope"  show me uphill    
let me climb you, and as I rise I'll turn and spin
promise me you'll deliver me into tomorrow  
regardless of what I see I believe in you lotus

White lotus of love you are always by my side
bloom in me so I may beget your love's arride.

The greatest gift that I could give you is the gift of my long years
every shade of burgundy that wine can't sell
every shade of gold that the sun cannot display
the greatest gift that I can give you, is the gift of my years
I am October, I come once a year at your home my love, to
Caress you with shivers both warm and cool.  I am a  
Teleported month that sweeps away the summers scorch
Opening doors to pastures and rustic pleasures, plum corn
Bathed in yellow juicy grains and bites, acorns, pinecones
Environmental beauties that never exist in winter's spew;

Return to me lover as I puff over you, I am "October "
your favorite color,
silk scarves are put away mink coats are worn
summer suits placed in cedar drawers,  
I am suddenly reborn through airy branches of trees  
Feasting on your wind whipped eyes of blue
I become October every consecutive year,  
your favorite color is October, and mine is you.

Fall is the most beautiful time of the year for me, with its blushing  
Apples and fruitful trees dressed in zesty rubious healthy leaves with      
Luminous fruit hanging off its stems, like galas, granny smiths, and fuji
Leaves of multi colored sunburnt shades of yellow, gold and brown  
Inside the orchard, ladders, bushels, straw hats and farmer pant- grins  
No better place to be then underneath an Autumn tree when every    
Golden leaf shimmer-shimmies before swiveling down at  your feet    

Leaves that dance and shuffle-shake before landing in your hands    
Earthing to the ground covering you with giant leafy  dry crispy limbs  
Arrest the night, stop the moon, hold the stars, its time to listen to the      
Voices of the night, the falling leaves have their sorrowful story to tell
Ease into their season with a quiet soul.  Help them say goodbye to the  
Summer. After all it is the season of Autumn,  a time for falling leaves.

September 27, 2021

Encapsulated in a world of duty and obligation
I see no room for fantasy or imagination
no wind of September
can ever dismember
the longing I feel for illusion, fantasy and excitation

Only the stars of heaven can throw me a rope
at night when I sleep, its the only time I cope    
the moon  
is my woon  
up there in the sky its the only thing that floats like hope.

September 23, 2021

Tempering colors of magnetic reds and browns
September, you sure know how to make me turn around
enclosing me in comforting space warm as a fireplace
you make me long for firewood and campgrounds
Maple trees of yellow and honey wood leaves
you make me want to trade my frosty lips for a cinnamon kiss
down in the meadows, the woods are whispering
saying their goodbyes to La Fleurs Fe Lis
Linden wood dreams beneath a golden Autumn
the cedar gum and the cedar oils are healing balms of choice
aiming for the hills on a cool September eve  
suddenly I feel like I have found my voice;

I love you September more then words can say
I think I'm going to go jump in the leaves,
one more time,  before my last hurray !

Amidst reality of my life two single things remain
inflection of your voice and glow of your tender eyes
held safe by this memory we become transparent rain      
wild as the tidal waves of Bristol souls of no disguise    
fluid as the ocean with are open inlets giving rise  

sepia moments of a little cottage hidden in the cove
the scent of sweet cinnamon and the taste of your clove  
the cackle sound of unseasoned wood against the brick
we ****** the flavors of our passion, and called it love,  
holding on to each other, like flames on a candle wick

molten wax and liquid centers with all I hold so dear  
when the moon comes into view the stars turn into glass
willful moments arching as tender reeds adhere      
we spiral down the staircase, of God's Mandir  
we find the miracle of us, and know that it will last  


caught between two soft spots we are cloaked in silk
like two lovers in heaven or two lonesome sacred elks
amidst the reality of my life, two single things remain
the taste of a kiss and the place from whence we came
you my first love, were always right as rain.

August 27, 2021

You were only twelve when I first met you through your mom
a special star in the sky that shone always brighter then the sun
You had the rare ability Alison of seeing auras around each soul
and when you spoke about it, your eyes pinned me like dark coal

Then you visited Quebec City and you came down with a disease
a rare one, with only 7 in the world, no drugs could fast appease
Intestinal lymphangiectasia, as rare as it was , you fought it still
at the Sick Kids Hospital, they placed a tube and fed you at will

You raised money for others like you, and doctors were baffled
by the sheer stamina of you, we had a banquet and tickets raffled
You wore a lavender gown and you gave a speech that made us cry
at the age of eighteen you died, and never questioned God's why

Your mom, my best friend, got a coach with horses of white rhodium  
and at your funeral  the congregation of angels were your symposium
I never cried so much as I did that day, when you left behind Caroline
a sister who loved you more then anyone else, but it was your time

Alison my dear may you rest in peace, and may the wayward dove bring
your memory to the caves of Al, where children children bravely sing
God speed my love, may you arrive to the summit of your realization
that the auras you saw were a reflection of your Angel immunization .

It was a sizzling summer of electric blues and vibrant hues
in  a garden full of flowers inked in plushy spanking reds
a wall of buttress wood splashed with vines of green
a purple morning glory with a touch of dewy sheen
over by a mossy pond a mandarin duck of orangey blue

The sun turns amber like a big fat shimmering coin of gold
in a sky that often blushes fuchsia,  pink, by a cloud's enfold
emerald blades of grass behind a white striped skunk  
a gradient shade of orange, from a Siberian chipmunk
here by the royal blue bench, a vibrant peacock fans bold

It is a season of rainbow colored rain and red electric trains
in a terrace full of trellises of white, roses bright as Spain  
blooming with vigor inside my bright oasis
happily connected to a Revlon kiss,  
of  cherry berry merry, on a girl named Mary Lou Fontaine

Throughout the history of human kind spirituality
has been the vehicle that leads us to a new modality
As breath is linked to life, it is the transient carnality
of the spirit, the one forever flow of wholesome chi
To breathe is to live, to live is to exist with extensity
born to take our first breath with lung flexibility,  
we learn to appreciate our duration and existentiality
as we be breathed and speeded, into infancy  
We live and have our moments in expectancy  
honoring each other with loyalty and compliancy  
The breath is the life and the life our determinacy
to exist, in a world of utter lunacy and discrepancy .

She walked the labyrinth with her head bowed down
and thought of Christ with His thorny encrusted crown
Each rock was interlinked, attached to a circular maze
and as the sun poured, onto the rocky terrain of Falaise
a silent prayer was uttered, as she set Sanctity ablaze

She came from the cloistered Abbey  on Rue de Calix  
having spent so many years kissing her little crucifix
it was a new world here outside, in the soil of France
hundreds of stones polished with natural enhance
its was a time of encapsulated self, in stillborn dance

she awoke  after the war, through Normandy's unrest  
A mother's diary was tucked inside a wooden chest
filled with flourish scribble from an ancient faded nib
It was meant to help a young woman survive and imbibe
she acquired strength, this little girl named Marie Lepine

Inside a velvet pouch was an old stone from the beach
long before the bombardment, a child was out of reach
Polished with the tears of a mother who cried of fright  
for a daughter who was to be left orphaned in the night
She kissed the stone that healed, through love and light.

Have you ever given thought on how language  impacts you,  
good or bad it all depends on the words you ruminate & chew
be careful what you choose to expel when your mouth spews
for it can either bless someone or wound,  bet you never knew
  
that one can learn to ponder words and usher without blurt
do not speak on angry terms for all it does is bring more hurt  
when the sun go down, tuck away hostility and don't be curt  
make sure you  care enough not to pill, rampage, or blurt

words can be a sanctuary to go to when no one seems to care
they can be a respite from that cruel world, your Lancelot dare
don't let the light of the stars cease to shine because of a flare
be slow to roll that pearly tongue, even slower to make it blare

not everyone thinks like you, wrong and right is only a concept
so don't bully your opinions on others and make them feel inept
please don't yank words out, it would be best if they overslept
good bedside  manners are essential, it cannot be windswept.  

July 10, 2021

Let me see if I still remember how
to light an emotion with just one touch
Caress the linen dreams of my hot summer day
with just the sound of your sweet laughter ..
I shall attempt to recreate "desire"  
by watching your strong muscular legs glide
deeper, into the mouthwatering jungle of my ***
Let me lick a moment off your long hour of leisure
and slowly enjoy this Sunday feast;
Perhaps loose my drawstring as you enter my rush  
push push then withdraw, push push then withdraw
I will accumulate your kisses, as you drink me in  
Oh, ...    I remember  .

Wolf is a symbol of guardianship, ritual, loyalty and spirit. Having the ability to make quick emotional attachments, it trusts their own instincts. We too should do the same, trust our hearts & minds, and have control over our lives.
When St. Francis encountered the wolf of Gubbio in 1220, he did not fear its coated fury armor and when the creature devoured animals and humans and became a force to be reckoned with, St. Francis  made the sign of the cross and went out to meet the wolf , one on one.  The crowd followed him from behind but as St. Francis entered the wolf's lair they held back,  keeping a safe distance, they could watch and not be harmed. The wolf at first rushed at Francis with open jaws. Again Francis made the sign of the cross and commanded the wolf to cease his attacks in the name of God. The wolf trotted docilely and lay at his feet. Placing his head on Francis's hands he listened to Francis:
"Brother wolf, you have killed men at the image of God, so now  you are worthy of death but if you make peace with us, we will forgive your past offences and you shall live.  The wolf bowed its head and submitted to Francis, completely at his mercy.  The wolf placed one of his forepaws in Francis' outstretched hand and the oath was made once ferocious wolf now behaved like a household pet.  Like the wolf, we too have our net worth, as compassioned  beings, capable of change.  So tell me, after reading this, where do you stand on the empathy scale ?  Are you going to help the wolf change, or are you going to watch him fail.
The End.
(when we all stand around and watch, we all lose)

In the land of fairy tales lives a tiny Pixie with golden orbs, etched in detail  
with two pointed ears and pointy hat she is untouchable like the Holy Grail
In the fairy Kingdom lives the Silvan Elf contented with all his Tolkien lore
and every tale brings laughter and flighting, in the Forest of "open doors"  
In this land of fairy tales, a gaggle of mages use elements without trail ;

Little dwarves no bigger then my thumb ducking beneath tall blades of grass
reconciliation spells by magic lanterns lit, from gold to yellow, copper, brass
Their territory and dominion is the land between the trees, while the muses
scribe, on illusionary parchment as translucent as a moon beam, they douse
the fires of reality. In the land of fairy tales only magic lives with cheeky sass

In the mind of children and the very old alike, lives a splendorous green haven
where all fears and loneliness is spoofed away, and all hunger quickly shaven
With mushrooms as tall as I, and crunch bit Cashews as big as a drop of dew,  
no one slumbers without a full tummy and a yamusical song of sweet renew
Magical moon whispers and pranksters with a lisper, they even got a raven

Flying solo in the sky, in this fantabulous land of imagination Victor, is hero.

I live in a dark stretch of land part ocean, part lava
sheer as light but opaque where the eyes meet
I am a pool of hard matter, still I appear translucent,  
when you look at me with those big brown eyes.  
Do you fancy me? Color me beautiful and find out;
I am full of helium, neon, ad hydrogen, perfumed
by methane, ammonia and carbon dioxide, ...
Do you like my silicon round, my phosphorus shine ?
I wore a sodium spritz for you, feel my magnesium
am I female/ male ? Color me  beautiful and find out;
I boast about my crust and my mantle is *******
stepping up to the plate I enhance the telescopes,  
with my sippy blue and splash of silver, I am me.    
Take your time before you X me in the box,  
I am moon cisgender to my nature, do you like ?
I am moon, all moon, equivocally endangered  
when you select a *** for me, so won't you please,
color me beautiful, no matter what hues you see.

No greater gift then the gift of love
and when given freely, its purely love
Offering oneself to others is love  
nothing else matters when we are in love
we can save a soul by one act of love
No precious gem shines more then love
no feeling in the world is more cherished then love
all the tea in China cannot drown love
It is the magic cure for all that ails, sweet love
I could not live without love
Love is my challice, filled with goodness it
Overflows with goodwill.
Verily I say onto thee,
Enlist in the army of love, and be a warrior of love
LOVE ...

It had been years since he had last seen his dad, when he lost his job,
he hardly came home.    
After many missed birthdays and graduations, he gave up on the notion of a real dad...
Years later, he found him living under a bridge, on a makeshift bed.  
He ate off a cardboard table held together by rocks and twine.  Stored his empty bottles in an old beat up cooler, filled with stale pizza.  They had words that day and he vowed to never return.  As far as he was concerned, his dad was dead...

One day he got a phone call from a nursing home saying his dad was in their care.  
He had requested a visit from him, would he please come.  He had expected many things on that day, but a clean dad with combed hair, was not one of them.
They shared a hot coffee and donut while sitting at a table.  They spoke for hours.

He asked his son to wheel him to the dresser. He gave him a card with a big blue balloon on it and a circus clown.  "Whatever happened to that little boy?"  he asked him through his tears.  
"I don't know dad, I guess he grew up" while you were elsewhere .
That night for the first time in years he slept in a dry bed with a real blanket and, a door.

Somethings he learned to live without , some things he plain threw out,
but the memory of his son's smile, that he never forgot.  " Its oka dad,
it flew up in heaven to be with mom " was his five year old reply.  
He once had a child and he abandoned him, just like a circus clown.

July 26, 2021

Oh, if only you would incline your auricle to me my dear
and walk slowly towards the wisps of my caress, your skin
cool and fresh as rain, would feel the touch of my breath
I would whisper little nothings in your shell and tell you secrets
comb your hair, kiss your face, like only a mother's love could  
I'd lift the collar off your neck and blow kisses on your nape
I'd guide you into the warm rush of air that fills your void  
I'd lay on your chest while you breathe and repeat your creed
if only you would draw your helix ear to me and listen softly
I would be your song, your poem or maybe, a tinkling chime
I'd be your constant companion and listen to you, all for free
If I were the wind on your back, I'd push you gently forward
give you so many gusts of joy you would never turn your back
If I were the wind on your face I'd make you blush with pleasure
oh, if only you would incline your ear to me, my dear,
what a proud wind I would be...

She was beautiful in a way that only nature understood
walking out into the sunlight she turned sunlight into Hyde  
raven black hair that fanned, two eyes of mesquite wood
no taller then four feet guided with a partnered girl guide

Little did I know she belonged to the day camp next door
recovering from trauma she'd been matched and supervised
all I said to her was,  " your beautiful" no less,  no more,
she froze turned around and ran, all I saw was her backside

Later I was told she had been burned and scarred by an Uncle
I assumed the word beautiful was a Stanley knife to fear  
she reminded me of a meteor rock, a magnificent Runkle
that burned very brightly as she re-entered earth's atmosphere

Oh she was beautiful  in ways only nature could not misconstrue  
truth be told I sat on a bench and cried, deep inside I felt her pain
so I painted her a butterfly so she could put it on her window pane
and at the bottom I inscribed the words, "Rolla, I love you "

July 15, 2021

A moment on the ear an opus creation without flaw  
the sound of pure laughter from a child on a see saw    
prolonged hours of ecstasy in the palm of God's hand  
the sound of the ocean on my chest and where I stand

A daffodil of yellow smiling up at me from base  
the scent of petrichor in the soil after a days rain
spectacular views from Mars or any place in outer space
just about anything that makes me laugh, insane  !

A slow and gentle kiss and poetry, from Baudelaire  
romantic dates that end with chocolate and roses
wooly socks, afghan blankets made of little squares
antiques that remind me of mom, and her neurosis

a million breaths released just after,  "I SIGH",
and all the things on my bucket list before I die.  
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2021

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eh1m3vCCGdA

Black Princess of the night chin strapped to her violin
she plays the notes from her memorable heart of blue
while the moon in her sorrow spills light upon the Quin,  
she plays on, a Stradivarius interlude of thin soulful Adieu;
Arrivederci  (goodbye)
Donna (woman)
Ingannato  (deceived)
even the stars weep  under her spell as her raven changelings
scatter like black ashes to the wind
Five seasons of partings five degrees of loss, still no light
bursts forth from a soot sky of ebon black
lamentations and moans
heaven groans
from the weight of  her sorrow comes the eye of the storm
as she plays her last note of deep unrest .

It begins with the first breeze of morning across the sea shore
phonographic moments from early rising seagulls, arriving
at the edge of dawn, soaring into the blueness above
Initiating the steps to a beautiful day break the shore awakens,  
with a harmony of sounds, orchestrated to perfection by nature;
Footsteps in the sand
salted lips and hands
wet feet digging deep
while others are still asleep
Front view seat on the cool cool spot, there she sits and waits for him  
a wild chestnut horse with pony box hooves, running swift as the wind
She named him Red Beauty for the flecks of his eyes are rubies of light
in the slow rising sun.
He trots nigh away
but here she will stay
til' the sun burns inside
all the tears she has cried

It all starts with a dream, at the edge of the shore
with a girl and a horse racing right through the door
all the while the wind chimes, as the sea shells incline  
at the end of the day she goes home, just in time.

Propellent syndromes rotating with energetic drum
the winds of time begin to churn your soul begins to hum;  
Through the portal of time you go regressing, progressing
forever moving forwards, you are a tiny little string;  
Dangling at the edge of time, waiting for the big rebirth
with the sun, moon and stars hung around your girth,  
you slowly decline at the doorway of heaven's nook
and enter mothers womb as she delivers you with shook;
Ferris wheel cries cracking the silence of dusks headdress
the dawn is a blush of bruises but the eyes, oh!  the eyes
they are two luminous stars of love, here is no surprise
the old soul has done it again, thundering back in, mortal
as you once were.  Immune to taste, sight, and smell,  
a propelling syndrome rotating with energetic drum,  
the winds of time has brought you back, now hum.

June 7, 2021

Disheveled as the fingers of morning  
this sage in her sedentary stoic seat
needs no purge to enter gloaming

Ripped at the seams by eventide
with hair of finest wheat
she lingers fearless as the tide  

Dormant dreams at sundown's door
chalk faced white as sheet
she drowns, in the ocean bellied floor

taken by the shackles of her wrists
on leaden feet
she walks towards the ether, in Gist

Quote: If I tell you that I have a gem folded in the palm of my hand, the question
of belief arises, but if I unclench my fist and show you the gem, it will not...
Buddha

A Fistful Of Diamonds Or Colored Sand

A fistful of diamonds or a  handful of colored sand
God blew a breath and scattered me all over town
I don't own airborne wings I don't live in fairyland
but when I see I only see reflections of His gown

A clear cut glass edged and polished with shine
another object of valor dulls before His stars
Sotto voce, an invisible sign of His Divine
I can either accept the vision, or decline

The mayhem of  the worlds chaos just a blow
I'm soak in the reflection of His quiet calm
Spikenard anoint and flowers bloom and glow
He is my diamond in the raw my soothing balm;

A fistful of diamonds or a handful of colored sand
He's the love I crave for, in the palm of my hand.

June 29, 2021

At the font of her own misery she wept silently
beneath a parapet sky of midnight blue  
Silver stars enmeshed and softened the water
as she drew closer to the only venue of comfort
she knew, ...
Amongst the conference of moon's effulgence
lay a quiet angel listening
to the in and outs, of a sweet girl's breath
A pear shaped tear fell on her pillowed cheek
not a spark from the heavens could rouse her
not a single whisper from Jala could end
the sorrow that threatened to engulf her being ;
At the brink of disaster a healing hand reached out
softer then the caress of the breeze
gentler then the brush of wings
As she stood beneath the silver stars eyes glistening,  
she found the edge line of the water then giving it
once last glance, she turned around then jumped..

Luscinian voices in the thicket of a midnight waltz
single male birds singing from a point of solitude  
closing down on city sounds inside a forest vault  
the sound of their vocals, nightingale's prelude      

calling in mates with whistles, trills  and sounds
sending messages of longing from across the throng  
listening from cup-shaped nests, eager to be found  
they wind up feeling drawn by their melodious song  

she, awake as the dawn and free as a bird in the sky  
he, as cuffed to her beauty as  the wings on her back  
they mate on a branch as soft as a nightingale's sigh  
away from the songsters, who are trying but lack

luscinian voices singing softly of dawn's pure glory
while two nightingales share a life, and love story.    

June 11, 2021

Jesus be my light my One and only
my candle in the dark my saving lark
help me to avoid all things not Holy  

in this life be my lantern for night's dark  
so when my Grace arrives on eagle wings
I may behold the murmur of your calling hark    

you are my Faith diamonded ring      
all that I hold most dear like trust and love  
you are the Master of my puppet strings  

in you I find refuge and hope from above
you, joy of my success are my one true Love.

I was six years old, the year was 1966.  Mom left me alone in a plaza
with my one year old sister in a perambulator.  
She went inside to do the grocery and asked me to take care
of her while she picked a few items;  
Along came two teenagers.  Inching closer to the carriage they peeked inside,  
"OOOOH  she's cute, is this your baby sister ?"
The next comment froze me where I stood,    
"We are going to take her, " one of them said,    
while the other grabbed the handles of the carriage
They shoved me aside and took off.  
I was in shock but I managed to run inside.  Sobbing  I told my mom
they had stolen my baby sister ;
Mom ran out of the store and chased after them.  
They ran fast but mom ran faster with me lagging behind.  
Suddenly they got scared when they heard her yell and pushed the carriage in the middle of the road.  Mom grabbed it before a car came by,
but slashed her leg on the steel frame while saving my sister from a car.
All my life I have had an intense fear of losing someone dear
Mom and dad both are both gone now, but the memory of that day
will live inside of me forever.

A true story that happened to me.

Night roses dipped in purkinje, tendencies of blue
lost inside this dream I urge the winds to carry me
onto the hammocks of the night where antic roses lie,  
moonlit soaked and mulched aside a big blue moon ;
Festoons of flowers strung across the midnight sky
scented boutonnieres for Saints and Gods  
Angel wraps and gauzy shawls caressing softly stars
lost in a shimmer high above the sea , I am nigh
In exploration I am closing in, onto sweet allay
loosening the strings of yearn for my turtle dove  
here in home sweet heaven, timeless as a rune  
soaked in purkinje, eternally making room.

Sunflowers bloom beneath a tinted blue sky, white dollop clouds in    
Undulating fashion, hovering over yellow petals and deep golden seeds.  
Nestled in soil slim tall and beautiful, birthing cordially for the      
Floriculturist in all of us.  A wide expanse inside a garden, they    
Loom, over plants such as Gerberas,  Lilies, Carnations and Limoniums;
Open your window take in the resin scent of their lace. They are a  
Wonder of nature, a gift from Mother Earth herself.  To name a few,    
Echinacea apricot rainbow, Emilia tassel  and echinop globe thistles,
Reviving each year with renewed strength they bring us love and beauty .

Lost on a sailboat going nowhere but towards a dream
I glide deeper in blue waters looking for the endless seam
night has fallen softly all around me, I can only gleam
here in my sailboat, standing spar to spar a pulpit realm

Finding only calm I mesh as one with the dolphins in the sea
the wind blows softly in my ear whistling past the bow now free
the calendar of time fades as dull as grandad's silver cutlery
I breathe deep, deeper then mermaids, there are three *

Entering forbidden lands, my fantasy is real  and real is not , I could  
for I'm warrior of old navigating, counting knots on a  piece of wood
ancient trees wave from a distance standing where they always stood
while my unflappable sails align to the sky, 15 knots no more all good

Finding solace in a cup of Joe  sitting on a berth at the edge of night
the stars are pantomiming with the flicker of their equestrian light
she sits beside me  reading my tea cup in her flimsy gown of white
the ghost of my Fedora, together we are lost it a nautical twilight.


May 25, 2021

WHEN THE SUN SETS ON YOUR TIRED EYES AND THE WORLD
AS YOU KNOW IT HAS TURNED FROM GOLD TO EVENING AMBER,  
RETRIEVE IN THE CHAMBER OF YOUR THOUGHTS AND THINK OF ME;
REMEMBER THE LAUGHTER WE SHARED ON OUR WAY TO THE LAKE
THE BRUSH OF A LEAF AGAINST YOUR CHEEK,
THE CARESS OF MY LOVING EYES EASILY SLIDING
TOWARDS YOU , LIKE THE DAWN SLIPPING INTO A NEW HORIZON,  
MAKING OUR WORLD THAT MUCH BETTER ...
WHILE THE FISH SWAM IN THE GURGLING RIVER WE FISHED
SIDE BY SIDE, HEART OF VELVET SKIN OF HYDE
TWO LOVERS LOSING THEMSELVES IN THE MOMENT
WHEN THE SUN LOWERS DOWN FROM THE PAVILLION SKY
REMEMBER HOW MUCH I LOVED YOU AND ALWAYS WILL
WHEN THE NIGHT ARRIVES TO SIT ON YOUR WINDOW SILL
REMEMBER TO THINK O ME,  AND BE STILL.

As a human life you are so strong and so full of loving ties
and you are the one living thing on earth that matters most
Existing on this plane, a precious being with all your worth
you cause the sun and moon to light up the sky and the stars
to shine.  They know the value of your gold and everyday
for the sake of you, the dawn turns up the light and every
night for the sake of you, the dusk turns down the sheets
of time.  You were created in a way that  is most sublime;
You are the framework of perfection with flesh and bones
endowed with a pumping heart and an energetic soul.  When  
you smile the world gathers in for the warmth of you.  When  
you dote on your reflection, the waters reflect , YOU;  
A celestial body having a human experience of old.  You are at  
the center of a Universe made for Masters and Servants, some  
of us, made of matter some of us transparent.  When it comes to your
dreams, they have a right to live, so rest easy in
the thought dear one that the fate that awaits you is a good one. In good time you will realize the best gift you can give yourself, is the gift of you, to others.
Yours truly, Mystic Rose

Inside this little locket of mine I keep all my memories of old
childhood laughter shared with siblings, smiles of mom and dad
upon a floral bed of written words,  a scribbled diary of gold
holding the treasures of a well lived life, a quiet story of youth  
Inside the ocean of my mind swims the history of my days
high school dances  that never were and dates that never trailed  
sober with imagination I lived inside this tick tock amulet of mine
making up stories that brimmed with life and always kept time;
I danced with every star, and waltzed with every dusk lit moon
inside my room I was a trapped butterfly longing to be set free
and then the day came when love met me and I flew away
to a land of greener pasture where my heart could finally sing
A cameo, a broach, an heirloom of old, keeping me alive
that is what my heart is, this is how it feels, as I grow old
inside this little locket called my heart I keep all my memories    
although my youth has slipped away like yesterday's flurries,
I keep each memory inside my trinket heart, all heart and soul
arteries and vessel, all  pumping with life and all, very good.
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2021

"One day I woke up to a world of topsy-turvy
one moment sharing a meal and hugging my kids
and the next,  I was keeping distance in a masked smile"

I believe that tomorrow was never ours
and that hope is the rafter that keeps us afloat
I believe that this pandemic has changed our attitude  
and given us a chance to realize how precious life is

I believe that if we persevere and work together
we can find a solution this dilemma
I believe government is doing the best it can
we can't slap our leaders, if we need their hand

I believe in miracles, especially in these difficult times
one day can make a difference
I believe that mountains can crumble and so can people
but if we fight the good fight, we can win

I believe in good old fashioned courage
putting a little water in our wineglass
I believe we owe it to ourselves and to our loved ones
to continue to do all that we can, to stay healthy and alive.

I walked into the room and found an old tattered book
sitting on my bed like a still born child wanting to be held
On the cover lay a topple of flowers plucked from our garden
and as I read the title, I came to understand my sister's creed
"Heaven Open To Souls"  was the fine print on the spine
it made me drop a salty tear to see her favorite braille
A book of poetry that held all the bible truths of death
explaining how souls flew forth, from earth to heaven  
Evoking summers of our childhood readings on the porch
I recalled her big sister smile and my youngling yawn of old
Ann would tuck the little book inside her sweater and say,  
"eight fingers to touch my heaven and two for kissing you"  
But then one day she got leukemia and she soared away  
dad was breaking up in two so I showed him what to do
sit by the porch emboss to her the words , I love you...
but it was not his memory but mine and oh how he knew
so the next day he left it on my bed, for me to treasure find
he knew that I had eyes to see but Ann, she was born blind.
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2021

I long for the faces of those that I love
the laughter the hugs of beautiful kids
Victorian teacups, & lacey white gloves
an epicure diner, beneath bubbling lids

I hope for a feast with a good ending year  
less tears more smiles, in all that I hold dear  
May the good Lord fasten and note my request
then offer up blessings to Mothers of best  

On this special day may all Mothers be told
love is a flower that blooms with May showers      
Mothers are worth more then silver and gold
when it comes to love they hold all the power  

Its Mothers Day so let her know you love her  
not for a day, not for a month, but forever...
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2021

She was his little girl and no matter where they went
the room was filled with the sound of her laughter
Precious stars of heaven dipped like diamonds for her  
for she was the most beautiful angel  on earth
Then one day she got very sick and had to fly away;


He was left with the memory of their last firm embrace
day after day, night after night, he hoped for her return
one night he had a dream that she spoke inside his ear    
"release me dad, " she breathed to a falling manly tear  
His heart went Pop! and then, the rhythm re-appeared.

May 6, 2021

She lay on a hospital bed like a pale rose wilting on a pillow sham
done were her days of counting every morsel of food and gram  
they told her if she stopped eating she would cease to live and die  
feeding tubes inside her nose, she stared into an anemic blue sky
knowing that her final breath was near, she took her mother's hand
as tears spilled on her hair of gold, she whispered, "mom,  I can't "
the girl who removed the chaff from the wheat no longer had to eat
they placed a large sheet on her tiny frame tiny little feet
later as she lowered to the ground all of life just went askew  
an invisible waif had flown away without a change or point of view
scent of  green tea, honey, vine, moss and fruit, finally empirically ground
flower songs of beauty, she ate and drank, without making a single sound
as she lay on a cloud and watched the sun go down, it was the final call
she felt thin, she felt beautiful, she wasn't hungry,  no,   not at all ...

April 30, 2021

She had a dream many years ago of moon fish in the sea  
as the Mermaids sang,  the moon fish swam happy and carefree  
the moon began to shine
the sky turned April wine  
sweet moments of eternity,  
in a sweet poetic voice of poetry;    
She had a vision of the ocean, filled with moon fish of every shade  
and as the dolphins danced the sky turned emerald Jade  
Then the stars appeared
as evening slowly neared
when the wind did veer
the moon fish quickly cleared
She longed to see the moon fish swim by a sky of midnight blue      
and so a vigil by the sea, brought moon fish of every hue  

Written by: Mystic Rose

May flowers reaching out towards the golden sun like new born tendrils  
making a tentative search for the blue sky above, flowers everywhere
Children's laughter is heard  over the sound of ice cream trucks its time  
for gardeners to place their bulbs in the ground like happy little gophers

Morning arrives, and breakfast is taken outback on a linen table cloths
shedding winter apparel we opt for sweaters for the breeze is warm
we take walks along the  lake, picking rocks and little discarded objects
whiling away the hours like the birds, free and happy, full of hopeful joy

Lily of the valley precious little bells that ring in the scent of perfumed air
Alchemilla in beautiful light green a flower pure, on bridle dress of white
Light is our best friend in this garden of Eden where love is abloom
the only thing we need from here, is our consent to enjoy the wealth

May flowers reaching out towards a golden sun like newborn petals sweet
we have summer arriving and I for one am longing to meet it in full bloom.  

04/24/2021

Its my birthday every day just because I awoke to see another day
a new breath an extra hour beneath my belt, I am God's living ray
Defying all odds I am still here stumping the experts with my drill  
dancing in the sunlight like a dervish mendicant ascetic, no pills;
I remember being six and blowing out the candles on my frosty cake
mamma asked me sweetly to make a wish before the first snowflake
I wished to live forever so I could find the secret of a well lit firefly
and summer after summer I watched them as they lit up the sky
It is my birthday today, every hour succinct to the next I like it this way
twirling like a wild baton in a parade I bang my drum and I sing all day
A new breath an extra hour beneath my belt, I am God's special girl
a Mystic soul that refuses to lay down and die, while the stars unfurl
I'll lay on the freshly mowed lawn and watch the stars shine from on high,  
while I recall mamma's birthday cake and the fireflies that once lit up the sky.

Agape Love: An unconditional kind of charity love paralleled to Godly love;  

Upon the healing balm of His gentle touch
the sound of a whispering meadow
fills my heart with hope;
He is the inspiration that drives my soul home  
"Courage my love," someone breathes into my ear
as I try to figure out the prayers my mother taught me long ago;
She stands by my wheelchair and smiles a Mona Lisa smile
I don't know who she is but she smells like flowers of springtime
Gone are the passionate hours of my youth,  
replaced by the placid thump of a nursing home life  
I see reflected in her eyes, streams of living water  but I don't know
neither her name nor her address, only the color of her compassionate eyes.

Always be the strongest link between the weakest ring
the kindest of the two, the giving of the one,
never forget to be brave when fear sieves through
and always say thank you when someone offers you their heart
Make honesty your module and never settle for a lie
be true to yourself and others, always walk the path of light
when you act upon your nature it will always treat you right
live together live alone but never with a superficial crowd
the best of company is often the company of one
so tell your story to the stars, let them shine upon
appreciate the moment, for soon it may be gone
always be the strongest link, between the weakest ring
and always say thank you when someone offers you, their heart.

Tamas
I began in my mother's womb  where darkness clothed me
still carrying taste of death upon my tongue I suckled and kicked free
there were dancing lights and tears in the Universe gathering me to life  
it didn't take long I did forget, I pierced the veil and wailed like a knife
Rajas:
I drank the nectar of the wild flower consumed the salinity of my goods  
entered into karma like a Gita in a wave of passion, no longer was I wood  
pulsing into life I sipped the juices of my passion and enjoyed the rays  
with third eye open I was guided through my living numbered days    
Sattva:
Like a pear tree laden with heavy fruit, life began to take its toll
like Saraswati I let go, then held on to a mala and a palm leaf scroll
swept away by a joy so pure, I found the core of love's own goal  
there was nothing else I needed so I climbed the lotus of extol

All lies melted away in the face of truth and revelation ,
I lost myself in worship, became a sweet oblation.

We no longer move in normal ways    
and all this because of Covid 19  
I no longer watch the news these days
Each day I pray for a simple cure
but as the numbers climb I realize
prayer is the only way to procure
Time lapses and we are losing ground
wish I could see a miracle or two
perhaps it would help me feel sound
Guardian angels are prepping their wings
preparing for their journey on earth
if I cup my ear,  I can hear them sing
Hope is the only thing worth a keeping  
in this world of uncertain terms
we got each other so lets keep steeping
Soak in the Faith as if it were a straw
we are al so very vulnerable
and none of us are above the law  
Life is a gift so we shouldn't assume  
never take any one for granted  
hold on to each other while in loom
Thank the stars above that our still here
and even if you are afraid
by brave, and never give in to fear.

Let us stretch our stillness with a moment of meditation
reach our true potential, by calming the mind's  queries
Find a place where you belong and build your cradle
into the creases of time , rock forward into motion;
Send the noises over to the other side of the room
then invite silence in to soak your senses for a while
Place your instinct in the doorway of procreation
and leave your beliefs ajar, there is always a maybe?
When we think that life has closed its passage on us
we are mistaken, it is only gearing us to higher ground
to a better place where we can discover hidden strength  
Hear the song of the heart it is  yours all yours my dear
Stretch your stillness beyond your imagination and
find a concrete thought that will tell you the truth
you are not alone, you live in communion with others
here on earth, and in heaven, both contain,  YOU !

As a child she was in the dark to what was unfolding around her
it was WW2 and she knew not of the deaths at Auschwitz and Sobibor
she recalls being taken from a ghetto to a transit camp in Westerbork
a ride to nowhere I knew not
when I was just a tot
others had been caught
She was taken from an orphanage kicking & screaming bruised and cut
then shoved her in a bus to transport her to a destination small as a hut
arriving at camp, they shoved her in a gas chamber, strange twist of fate
it malfunctioned ,she was left naked in a chamber overnight, was it Faith?
thumping heart and all
she curled up from a crawl
and cried to the wall
Angels of death rejected her, she was too sterilized with innocence
burning in an oven she didn't belong, she lived to tell without pretense
unfortunately scarred for life, she survived and lost her dear parents
on her wedding day she did cope
a survivor with an anchor a rope
dressed in white she took a *****
Jews,  burned in ovens all because of Adolf ****** and his hatred for Jews
Jews, God's people honest good living Citizens who did no wrong, Jews
Jews, human beings ripped apart, God opened gate then wept, JEWS  +