Tremble at this door child but do not come in yelled the Quent  
she an ogress at the end of her wits wearing muslin and flint  
was only looking for a King who could love her as she was  
When the angry boombox voice gave her quivering she went  
away, hunching her shoulders she glided away her ogre scent

A little latch opened a flash of blue  a slant of eye then he re spoke
"do you clean Kingdoms and can you cook, for a jaunty bloke?"
"oh for the love of God" she cried, I got teacups bigger than this place  
yes  I can wipe your palace, dust your crocket, just don't look at my face
and so he let her into the Kingdom of JUA, and so began their chase

A little fairy magic in the soup was all he needed as he ate in one gulp  
contented as a Mishka, he cried out,  " my your skin is soft as pulp! "
From an Ogress to a Tigress, down she went like a pile of  timber
while he headlong without haste planted a kiss so soft and limber  
that it opened her heart, henceforth they lived happily ever after .  

The End.
December 24, 2020

My heart is made of lace held fast by Holy fabric strings  
its red like a  pomegranate warm like my Father's love
my heart is open like a rose in summer when it sings  
and when I meet a stranger,... it chances it thereof

My heart is volatile like a bird  through an open door
it beats to pulsed emotions living deep inside my chest  
finding favor with my soul loving me with sweet adore,  
it pumps blood inside my chambers, never taking rest  

This heart of mine is made of love and Holiest of things
I spend my time giving true support to those in need
if I were Angel my heart would own two feathered wing
but Angel I am not, though I love to plant the seed,

Its only God that can turn a heart into Holy fabric strings
Its only God that can turn a heart into a heart that sings.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9FU7Q-BthE

Have you seen the light of Him that shines brighter then the  
Aludra star of heaven's lair, and have you seen the rays that
Veer towards you when you pray, my brother have you
Ever known more peace then when you bow your head in prayer

Yoked to your heart He is your everlasting soulmate and your friend  
On the wings of faith you can soar towards Him night and day  
Unearth your fears and find the comfort that you need  

Sacred Father, Abba, Patriarch and Archer of all that is good in you  
Every action of yours is guided by His Holy subservient angels
Experience Him in your journey of love and know that you are  
Noteworthy of His protection.  Sister of life on earth plant  a seed

The creator will water it and make it grow like a rose in the dessert
Hide it from the enemy let it prosper in His vineyard. You the  
Elect who is never left in the dark, is a child of the Beloved,

Love with all your heart as he has loved you, built an alter and  
Invite Him to your table dear friend, He is the candle that burns bright
Goodness and peace will follow you if you make  
Him your  confessor and your constant companion .
Trust in Him who created you to His image, know you are loved.

Visions of belonging held fast inside my heart
I want to be accepted for who I am my Lord
but all they see is a he she, and a shifty ****  
even in the days of old, only men wore swords
time has changed but not re-arranged their ways
yesterday appearing same, a cornucopia of straight
today we have the trans, lesbians, gays
and those serving up, fear and utter hate
I love the feel of lingerie God, so why can't I ?
my heart is red like theirs, it pumps, it hurts
I shed so many tears I've forgotten how to cry  
can you love me just like this, without revert?
Sitting on this pew I've come to realize all I do is flee
and although your son was crucified at thirty three  
I'm still here Father, .. you made me like I am  
my heart is red like theirs, I suffer when I can't be me.

A sprinkling of fairy dust early in the morning
an airy dawn arrives on the wings of an angel
music of nature flutes by with all its first bring  
I own daylight quills and Longfellow's archangel
While the rose sleeps beneath the moist earth
safely beneath the snow  waiting for rebirth
guardians of the galaxy are closing in on stars
I don't hear a sound not even the tooting of cars
Outside the breeze is slipping through the trees
as quietly as the memes of God's silent smiles
I own hopes so big they bring me to my knees
and a belief that will help me through the miles
Dance while you still can He says to my heart,  
as I hear the sound of music, ... I do my part.

TUBULAR AND JOLLY HE SAT IN THE SNOW
HIS EYES MADE OF BLACK BUTTONS AND GLOW
ENERGETICALLY MADE, BY THE HANDS OF A CHILD

"What a wonderful morning to build me a chum "
said the child as he picked, packed and put with his might
He poked in a carrot then packed it real tight  
but spoke not a word as he stood there, chalk white
He showed him two tonsils, one tongue and some teeth
all he got was a grin and a stare, " call me Pete "
Crunch, crunch went the boots, they were all in cahoot
if you hear me Chum please give a hoot !
It was an owl by far who heeded his call
white as pure snow but not quite so tall;

Rollaway days made for children at play
It was Christmas and oh, it had to be done  
inclining an ear he said, ''be a good chum ''
then he turned up grin and sang with a hum.

I saw the little green light shimmering from my window
"come join us in the forest" they  whispered my way  
"they are all asleep and it is Christmas day
come join us, on mother earth's parkay"  
said the harpist as she plucked a unicorn glowed
Two emerald wings clapping happily, a hummingbird fairy
a tiny snail and the deer, all part of the master plan
the ****** sat  on the plaid, a gift from good old Nan    
all joined to the hip with a bunny named Stan
and singing mushrooms, so light and so airy
Yes off the the forest I glided alone and quite content
as the fish with his mouth agape treaded the waters of jubilee
the glen came alive with festive sounds, a garland of poetry
I was transported into a different world to party,  
it was like celebrating with friends, beneath a magic tent.

Where do you come from little rose of blush  
you, who was never owned by anyone but me
oh singing bird of thrill how easily you shush
when conscience leaves my side I am not free
When guilt devours me whole you go in hiding
like a wounded child that often goes to play  
oh litigator of my heart I was born consigning
to life's  passions, as they happened me away
Whence forth  this solid mind I will constrain  
from thinking out of line for sake of heart
oh soul of beauty please forgive my reign
in my old age I realize, what is your part
You,  are the part of me that makes me whole  
the conscientious side of me, oh,  my soul!

December 11, 2020

Too many years spent in depression buried beneath a pile of regrets
pills of every color aside my glass, cuts of every size scabs included
Broken pieces of my heart scattered from Newfoundland to Toronto
I had forgotten the taste of content and the sound of chattering friends

They tried to help me by taking me to therapy but I cried myself to sleep
every time I spoke to him, about my childhood pain and the awful abuse
One day I decided to go visit an old chapel that kept their side door open  
this kind woman let me in and ushered me into a back pew then left

I felt a rush of panic,  all I wanted was to run but then I began to talk
the words spilled out of my heart, onto a crucifix of pewter and gold
I told him all my secret fears and all the things my mind struggled with
gazing upon that cross I suddenly realized that he'd been broken too

On a crumpled piece of paper I scratched out three words " I choose life "
then I left the chapel door open and walked out into the sun, alive...
Its not like I cured myself all at once it took time, but I finally did it
one day at a time , first I crawled, then I walked, then I saw the light

It was the year of optimum technology. Manufacturers were cranking
out musical baubles with motions detectors that rang out with music
and song jubilation, at the tip of a human wave or shuffle.
Every household sheep ran out to buy these amusing novelties.
It wasn't long before the big recall. They were deemed annoying
by the public.  "We can't talk over them.  They got a mind of their
own."  Soon they were all returned to the store.
So the distributors hired  a slewing  of personnel  to deliver all the
baubles to the forest and abandon them there in an old shack.
On Christmas day as the world slept by the silenced buzz of their cel,
one sad lumberjack braved the dawn and went out to cut a fresh tree
in the woods.  He closed the door behind him, leaving a deaf child
clutching a doll and an old ratty mouse named Nicky.
With every swing of his ax he heard a ring a ling ding, ding a ding ****.
It was coming from the old shack, and it got louder with every chop.
Ian walked into the shed and saw the most adorable baubles laying
pine coned on the floor. He carried an armload of them to his truck
His thoughts were miles away. Thinking how sad it was that his daughter
Cora could not hear anything.  She had never heard the sound of music
nor the sound of her dad's voice.  Christmas would be silent as usual but
at least she could stare at the beautiful baubles on the evergreen. He
entered his humble abode and mantled the tree with shiny  ornaments.
When Cora Ling saw the baubles on the tree her eyes opened wider
then two lanterns in the snow. "Oh" was all she said as she ducked to
retrieve his gift. It was a freshly made sandwich put together that very
morning. He gave her a big bear hug and then plucked a green box
from the middle of two branches. "Open" was all he mouthed.
Inside were two dangling silver earrings, one for each ear. "They
used to be your moms and I think she'd like you to have them.
When she ran over to give her dad a big hug, the baubles began to
vibrate and hum.  They sang out an operetta of great beauty.
Many a year had elapsed since their last Christmas interlude. They
had upgraded themselves and taught each other to sing as a team.
To Ian's surprise his little girl picked up her doll and started dancing
around the room.  Even Nicky the mouse was waving his tail to the
rhythm of the music.  "Can you hear that?" he asked his daughter .
She swirled and twirled as if she would never stop. Then she went to the
window and waved to someone or something ? With a smile that broke
the stars of heaven,  she scattered the Christmas Spirit all over the place,
then with a sweep of her beautiful eyes she said, " daddy, I can hear."
The End.

Nostalgia is a longing for a person or a place that evokes happy memories.  Its an  
Oasis for the soul that harbors in the center of our hearts and draws us back to the
Safe haven of our most sacred places.  It contains the pull of an all familiar feeling;        
Territorial as a tug boat in the sea  it has the ability to transport us without notice
Across the miles of our present, into the deep abyss of our past.  It is often said that
Love is always remembered by the way it made us feel, and places by their scent;  
Granny's peppermint candies and mother's garlic sauce, are two precious memoirs    
I often go back to my first teachers  and lose myself in recollection of home. It was  
An era of youthful abandon.  Golden days full of spirited living and so much love.

Every Wednesday he held a healing service for the sick
since Betty's cancer had spread to a point of no return
Fr. N was the only one she followed, with faith unbroken;  
He stood at the front of the church and called us over
one by one. Up we went with all of our hurts and pains;  
He healed by instinct and Godly knowledge, of this I have
not doubt.    
Sadly, Betty did pass but not before receiving inner peace,
which that in itself was the greatest miracle of all...
Years later upon my return from Pittsburgh I visited this quiet
Anglican church with the hope of healing something deep inside
of me.   My soul had been hungering for acceptance for many years.      
"One of you is here to heal their inner child" he said,
"whomever you are please come up and receive your healing. "
I felt like he was talking to me so I got up and walked up the isle
towards him. He held a bottle of Olive oil in his right hand, after
anointing me he whispered,  "Why do I hold a vision of split acorns
in my head ? "
Unbeknownst to him,  I had just come back from a forest located
in Pittsburgh.  I had actually picked acorns, and turning them in
my hands, I had noticed they were split and took them home with
me in a bag to glue together.  
I went down like a soft feathered bird and when I came to,
I wept for half an hour, until all my fears subsided,
When it came to this special priest there was nowhere to hide,
he was a faith healer of the truest kind, always on your side...

December 3, 2020

Detailing leaves of golden spiff
I lean up close to take a whiff
of turmeric colored leaves sublime
and skies of ruby reds sweet wine
Engaged upon the breeze my touch  
awaits the pinnacle's non such;

Sharing space with a painters brush
I sketch a new horizon's rush
on a canvass ****** without blotch
envisioned scenes of yellow scotch      
while up above  the skylark soars
on sweet November's wing adore

Inhaling salt and sea I breathe
the very things of me that seethe
embroiled in art to hearts content
I hear falls bitter sweet lament
she doesn't want to touch the snow,  
nor lose her natural bronzing glow.

They were bright little elves, mischievous but good
creative as can be  known as gnomes of the North Pole
Santa's sleigh began to slow so they did all they could  
the spirit-meter read low and it could not run on coal,  
so they filled it with hot cocoa and a tad of faithful gist.
  
Intuitive as heck they decked the workshop halls with glee
knowing very well insightful Santa could smell a foul tree
But then before the big old flight, he asked a ***** elf
"why do you smell like chocolate boy? "make a note to self"
it was then that Santa doubted but heh the presents come  first!

Off he went with a bag of toys as the elves made so much noise
clever little beings that they were, they all waved with poise
Up the chimney down the chimney  the sleigh just ran and ran
hot on the trail of children's hopes it flew with a yes I can .
Santa  saw that the spirit-meter was low and full of thirst
  
He thought and thought, and then he saw  a chocolate leak  
dripping down his boot, he knew, the elves had had a peek
but when he saw the joy on the children's faces in a dream
he knew that his  magic elves were geniuses of their realm  
and he was glad they got the sled to fly, with a cocoa burst.

Let's put CHRIST back into Christmas and steer towards the season without fear  
with no distraction of any kind to take us away from the LOVE gift he proposed
Superfluous  gifts with money tags are of no use this year so we better adhere
to the treasure of His birth, a birth that was so dear that even the camel posed

Lets cook good food, gather our children to our *****  and give them hope
light your candles, use your best china,  tomorrow is only a promised wind
Laugh at yourself a little,  God knows you need it, its a great way to cope
be as kind as you can be, use your empathy for those who's hearts rescind

Bring the tinsel to your front window show the world that you are a believer
Christ was the light of the world and still is today, he was never a deceiver
Send Christmas cards in abundance this year, and open your heart to LOVE
it is the only gift worth giving and receiving, ...for its a one size fitted glove

Let's put the CHRIST back into Christmas and remember our parents rule,  
if you don't realize by now its not about the gifts, then go back to school.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE
LETS SALUTE THE HOLY SON..

I may not be so popular with the comments and the views
and although I never make the front liners nor the news
the one thing I do know is this I got friends that are true    

They know to find my page and send me my heart's gage
even if I didn't win a contest nor cause the latest rage
I dislike gossip and fake people and yes, I love to sage

I don't evaluate myself by the amount of likes dislikes
preferring Cinderella's stage coach over shiny motorbikes
I don't sit in the cinders and take pleasure in the spikes

I'm an ordinary poet who loves to write about this and that
very private with my sort so I won't say where I hang my hat
and if you really must know, I love dogs more then I love cats.

Our God is bountiful because he knows no measure to the love He has for us  
doting in the wings like a Father  regardless of our Faith in Him or not
He endeavors to protect us from above
as if we were the only stars in His galaxy;
There are days when we feel like we ate the paupers last meal
and there are times when we don't have the strength to rise above
Still, He is a God of continuance and doesn't ask much from us
pouring out every drop of compassion and mercy upon our souls  
he fills our empty cup and breaks bread, for  the sake of nurturance ;  
Regardless of our vision or lack of it, he sees us through
Our God is bountiful because,  
He created the earth and filled it with un-barren fruit  
so we could have life on earth  
and live in His abundance, until our sweet homecoming.  

November 14, 2020

Watching the festive tree light up the room I gladden
like a tiding shifting  from the present moment to the past
Remembering the happy smiles that grew upon our faces
as the season approached with all its glitter and bustle

Tinseled moments overlaid as memories turn golden  
by the fitted hugs of mom and dad and all I held so dear
Skies of reddish hue falling gently on the Christmas tree  
landing on a Child Of Love, nestled softly in a manger

Breathing in the Hope, we sang with peppermint voices
carefree as the wind that blew upon our Christmases  
As I recall the Christmastides of old I rejoice in the thought
that the Christ of yesteryear, still still shines in me today.

Written by: Vienna Bombardieri

Those who do not die are known to live beyond the veil
disheveled in the light like a Polaris star
that lusters in the sky with gaseous shine;
Although some stars are known to die very fast  and very young,
there are others that remain as constant as the Northern star;
My dream is to arrive one day inside my Father's House
a methuselah star of old light years away from birth;  
Oh how I wish to be the signage of His requiem,  
the agent of His blaze, the one that makes things visible.
A gleaming star bequeathing light to all who perish in the night

For those of them who live beyond the veil and never die
like the Archangels "12",  I do in askance ask,  
how long must I live in this heathen town. without His Godly gown.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlQ85UbZolA

As November arrives with her golden colors of russet and auburn,  
she tips her hat to the eagerness of December sighs ,
and fills our days with sunshine and beautiful breezy love.  
Let us walk down the path of deep serenity, and listen to  
the swaying trees,  telling us that all is well within  (breathe )  
There is a field full of golden light, and as the sunlight arrows
through the branches of a  barren tree, we get lost in the bonfire-reds
and sun flamed remnants of yesteryear, .  
The memories of days gone by become golden moments

and as the soul yearns , it reaches its invigorated space (breathe)
We watch as a deer caresses the waters by the river
as November invites us in, It says to us in whispers and sighs,    
"I am only making way for winter  dear soul, "
and as we huddle in our warm homes,  we begin to realize ,
that every season loves us as it should (breathe )
As November arrives with her golden colors of russet and auburn,
we know Christmas is arriving and soon, we can delight in a new
rebirth.      In Love and Light,    Your Mystic Rose

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlQ85UbZolA

Life is delicate and vulnerable right now but if we realize that
we are made of tough string, we can hold together each day,
and help others do the same. (breathe )
There is silence, there is light, there is music, there is grace
there are people, and then there is life.
Come share a few moments with me, assemble your breath and
expel out, the things that do not serve you (breathe)
Abundant as you are, you can always share charity with those
who need it most,. No matter how cold the weather this time
of year, your hearts can always kindle the flame of love with
just one spark, if you practice loving kindness every day (breathe)
Come away with me to the other side of the world where the
stars are luminous and the deep sea ocean is waiting for you,  
and your silent thoughts.
Life is delicate and vulnerable but you, as salt of the earth
will always be part of the waters of human compassion,
enter into communion with your soul, and include all sentient
beings into your heart. Yes do your part and be blessed,
my dear yogi devotee.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cn-_xr3uCEQ

DRAW IN YOUR BREATH AND THEN INHALE THE ENERGY
OF OLD THAT ONCE BROUGHT YOU LIFE  AND AWAKENED PROMISE  OF VIGOROUS GOOD .
STAND AT THE EDGE OF THE SUN AND WARM YOUR SOUL WITH THE RAYS OF LIGHT THAT BRING YOU ONLY HEALTH AND PROSPERITY. SIT WITH THE MOON AND THE STARS AT NIGHT, ALLOW THEM to SOAK YOU WITH SYSTEMATIC  BEAMS OF BEAUTY AND GRACE
(breathe in and out slowly )
WRAP YOUR MIND AROUND THE AMPLE CLOUDS, AND FEEL THE COMFORT OF A DIVINE MAJESTIC PROVIDENTIAL ONE.  GLORIOUS AND FRUITFUL AS A FIG TREE IN FULL BLOOM, BENIGNLY CUT FROM THE CLOTH OF LOVE AND MERCY, EVERY FIG LEAF IS AS PERFECT AS YOU ARE DEAR ONE.
(breathe in and out slowly )
PLACE YOUR FINGER ON THE PULSE OF UNITY AND LET YOUR HEART BE THE GENUINE PRAYER  FOR UNIVERSAL HEALING AND GOOD WILL TO ALL.
DRAW IN YOUR BREATH AND INHALE COMMUNITY SPIRIT,  KNOWING THAT TOGETHERNESS BRINGS POSITIVITY AND ETERNAL BLISS.  BE SOFT AS A KISS AND STURDY AS THE GENTLY WIND WHEN IT BRUSHES THROUGH THE PINES
ALLOW YOURSELF A MOMENT OF SILENCE TO HEAR YOUR SOUL SPEAK.  FOR MEDITATION WAS THE LANGUAGE OF SAINTS , SINNERS AND MEDIEVAL KNIGHTS ALIKE. NO MATTER WHO AND WHAT YOU ARE, KNOW THAT YOU BELONG TO THIS HUMAN RACE. YOU ARE ONE OF MANY AND YOU ARE SPEICAL. REJOICE BELOVED ONE.
(breathe in and out slowly )

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cn-_xr3uCEQ

WHEN THE WORLD AT LARGE GIVES US LOUD SOUNDS AND OVERSTIMULI
OF NEWS AND DRAMA, WE NEED TO STOP AND RECENTER THE  UNIVERSE,
INSIDE OF US .   THE ONLY WAY TO DO THIS IS TO FIND REFUGE IN OUR LAIR ,
AND LIVE IN THE SANCTUARY OF OUR THOUGHTS FOR A LITTLE  WHILE.
LOSING THE CROWD DOES NOT ME WE DO NOT CARE , IT MEANS WE
NEED TO PRACTICE SELF CARE, REALIGN OUR CHAKRAS AND RECENTER
OUR BEAUTIFUL MINDS . FOCUSING ON HOPE, ENDURANCE AND STABILITY
HELPS US ACCOMPLISH ALL THAT WE HAVE SET OUT TO DO.
(BREATHE IN AND OUT SLOWLY )
HOPE IS A FEELING OF TRUST, WE CAN ILL AFFORT TO LOSE IT
WE CAN WIN EACH DAY, IF WE TAKE THE TIME TO EMBRACE IT.  
WHEN DARKNESS THREATENS, IT IS THE LIGHT OF HOPE THAT BECKONS
WHEN WE FACE OUR DEMONS,  IT IS ANGELS THAT LOVE US WITHOUT TREASON
IF WISHES ARE MADE OF PAPER AND CREPE, AND PROMISES ARE MADE OF AIR
THEN THE ONLY THING THAT IS CONCRETE IN OUR HEARTS , IS    "HOPE "
WHEN THE WORLD AT LARGE GIVES US TOO MUCH TO BEAR, THE ONLY THING
THAT CAN KEEP US ALIVE AND CENTERED IS TO BELIEVE IN HOPE ,
THROUGH SOLIDARITY OF FAITH, FOR EACH OTHER, AND THROUGH EACH OTHER
WE BECOME BOTH PEACEFUL AND STRONG,  LIVING TOGETEHR AS ONE.
PEACE BE WITH YOU ALWAYS,

Halloween is never an alien moment for those who love to trick or treat
a caricature face painted in caked blood and fangs is an aim to scare
Donning superman capes they go door to door with cautionary meet
masked like vampires, a closed mouthed muffle in gist says, we care

Trickery can be fatal done in mindless chatter and spittle of BOO  
we don't want to face abduction of childhood thrills, so better not ignore
Paralyzed by fear can be good or bad this is a circumstance of new Halloween it up partners in crime but keep a distance don't abhor

Feasting on candy day succeeding all good, but wear a mask for me      
diabolical ways are subtle a masked bandit is a welcome sight to see.

Scintillating light you never tire of shining bright
Incommensurable star, you are guardian of wishes    
Leading us silently into the ocean of our sailor dreams  
Every shimmer casts us onto the sea with deep mystique  
Natal super nova beam of beauty you are miraculous.  A    
Calligraphy of ephemeral light,  
Energetically twinkling, you echo every desire.

The old decrepit cemetery sits abandoned in the courtyard  
Whistling tumbleweeds roll, moaning and groaning out of perimeter  
Its an eternal hell hole for jackals,  sorcerers, witches and daemons.
Damnation  is born here and it hovers like a dark cloak over the county
"Abuse them no more, " said a voice over a toasted atmosphere,  
but the Demon Head with 14 tails laughs and taunts,  
while Witch Viadora sprinkles Sulphur on her broom and hovers over the air
Her red eyes flare as she shoots fired breath and un-casts a spell :
"arise, arise formidable frightful emissaries  
into the decanter you all go without parries
its Halloween night and everyone marries
one child at at time, go scorch the scarries
You could hear the big creeks from hinges dried up, of long ago  
as little feet scurried, dead people arose to purge the earth of covidian ****
there was laughter and candy once again, and grannies moussaka ;
The caretaker awaken with a yawn behind the cemetery shed and quickly got to his knees, removing the lead from the earth
Here where souls were once enslaved by fear, are now shedding a happy tear
Tonight the blue moon smiles, for its Halloween
and  all the dangers are 10 ft under.

The Silence Of A Rainbow






Have you ever heard the clish closh swosh
of a silent rainbow as it curves and arches
or found the echo of its reflection by a child's galosh
guess not, neither have I, as rain the marches
the rainbow never says a word
no, it never says a word....

On camera they caught a black jaguar crossing the Amazon in plain day
he was black and sleek and swam like an otter with motion and sway

Head of the wild life foundation was present ready to capture with lens
a special moment that at first looked like a crocodile, this made no sense

Black jaguars are near threatened species in Central and South America
so this big cat swimming the waters of Brazil was more then just la di da

They estimate only 600 black jaguars are left, so it was smart to mention
the footage and raise awareness in order to promote their protection  

It was a pretty smart move for that jaguar to pick that boat to swim near
I hope they will survive  for I think they are creatures to admire not fear.

She made me my first reticule when I was ten years of age
cutting an empty javex container she basketed the base  
then used her crochet to knit the yellow phentex into a purse,  
including a string to gather and hug the curve of my hand;  
In that moment , she taught me how to treasure things
and put them inside soft places  
where they could be hidden, from the rest of the world;
My mother, my confident, my first best friend,  
stitched to my heart the memory of her actions
as I the soakant in souled her like a kiss  
Inside the satchel I kept an Avon sachet, "basket of scented violets"
and the memory of those blessed hands.
If I close my eyes I can still recall the statue that sat in our living room
Our Lady Of Fatima
Three elective children, The Leonardi Clan" praying the rosary on plastic covered couches;  
Mom was our compass of faith, as we prayed,
I thought of my little pouch, and all the treasures I stored inside.

October 18, 2020

SPIDER SILLY CRAWLINGS UP AND DOWN WEBBED WALLS
THERE ARE GOBBLINS AND MONSTERS, MEOWLINGS TOO
JUMPING JACKS THAT POP AND LITTLE SLY FOXES THAT RUN
FOR GOODNESS SAKE BE SAFE SAYS THE EVE OF GOOD WILL

SCARY DOLLIES WITH EYEBALLS THAT JIGGLE AND WIGGLE
A PORCUPINE CHILD WITH A PRICKLY DEMEANOR, OH MY !
HAUNTINGS & MUDDLINGS, SCATTERINGS & SCARINGS
THE KIDS IN THEIR GARMENTS ARE WILDER THEN RODENTS  

HERE COMES THE STICKLIEST WITCH OF THE YEAR  
FLYING ON A  BROOMSTICK BEWARE, SHE DRAWS NEAR  
SHE HACKLES AND CACKLES WITH DROOPY NOSE QUACKLES  
MY KIDDIES BE CAREFUL, DON'T EAT FROM HER CASTLE    

SHE'S GOT MONGRELS AND HYBRIDS AND ALL KINDS OF BREEDS
AND EVEN THE GOBBLINS ARE AFRAID OF HER GREED
SHE'LL TRICK YOU SHE'LL TREAT YOU, BUT DON'T YOU BELIEVE HER
HER CAULDRON IS READY AND SOON SHE'LL BE FETCHIN'

SPIDERS AND GOBBLINS , LITTLE ONES TOO,  EYEBALLS AND TOES,
AND MAYBE ,  .... EVEN YOU !

This years Halloween its a tedious task  
because of the virus, we all need a mask      
be safe not sorry  
says the man, John Tory  
keep your distance, don't drink from a flask

the children are longing to participate this I know
cover mouth and nose, and join the evening tow
demonstrate
be a template
wear a mask while shelling out get into the flow

Halloween has been a fav since I was a little waif
kids will be kids, its up to us to keep them safe
keep an eye
if asked why ?  
tell them its essential, just for a period of grace.

A good little habit for all that they treasure
and its up to them if they want the pleasure
be cautious
not raucous
my children, have fun but remain in your measure.

October 15, 2020

Love, epitomic incarnation of life
a holding of the heart with warm intent
a gust of wind between husband and wife
love, the only thing with rights to amend  
Communion with it and you will always
drink from the reservoir of its success
A look, a kiss, a touch, an honest gaze
and suddenly your sheltered in  its bless
Love, the interlocking mesh of two  souls
a generosity that keeps our hearts alive
a gathering of the heart that has one goal
if partnered in two, it will always thrive
Love, its the only thing without a doubt,  
that can claim you, then turn you inside out.

"Professor Scarpnell  you are wanted on the phone" says an automated voice coming out of the message system. He slips the disk into the back of his neck and listens carefully to the instructions he is about to input  
Twenty four hours later all over the world  there are  people diving into water  searching for something that will change the world for good.
In a circular library sits an old librarian who has never left the City since the day she was born. "Off to pack my little bag" she says as she re-aligns a bobby pin gone askew.  At home she eats her modest egg then goes to the bedroom to search for her overnight bag.  
In another corner of the world Jim a retired fireman is peeled to the television watching the news. It appears that the virus has mutated and spread across the land faster than  the speed  of light. For the umpteenth time he wishes the department hadn't served him his papers and retired him like an old dog. At the age of fifty he is still fit as a fiddle. The phone rings at cutting edge and a green horizontal line appears.  Jack hears 'four' imprinted words....
                                     " IT'S IN THE WATER " .
He packs his shrapnel bullets in the lined compartment of his bunker gear then offers up a diluted prayer to the Gods of Technology for their systematic and safe state of weaponry.
Its a cool evening in Venice and the October wind has twined itself around the gondolas like an old friend.  Autumn  is a time for customary dishes and as the staff works diligently  in the kitchen, Chef Marco Battalione  catches up on paper work.  He opens an email from an unknown source asking for a reservation for seven on October 18,  7pm . Included is an e-transfer of $5,000 euros.
"I will need a private room where we can talk in absolute privacy  without the threat of being overheard.  The menu I leave entirely to your discretion.  I will arrive shortly after diner to introduce myself to the guests at hand.   Please do not try to contact me at this email address.  It is now obsolete for  reasons of confidentiality and for the  safety of all persons involved. "
Marco is stumped by the audacity of this person. When he realizes that  because of the restrictions on restaurants caused by COVID, he has
lost most of his income. He knows that he can ill afford to refuse such a generous offer. Setting aside a stack  of  bills, he begins to plan a menu fit for a King and Queen. With a red felt pen he  circles the date on the calendar, then pours himself a drink.  He raises a glass to the neon lights echoing over labyrinth streets and canals, and says "Salute"  

to be continued...

Wrapping him in  a blue blanket he hands him over to me
outside the snow is falling, as I gaze at him my hearts about to burst
all the pushing is over, now its time to receive his glee
bluest eyes I'd ever seen suckling at my breast with a quenching thirst  

Yesterday was Debussy and Bach
lullabies of sweet by a morning dawn
Today  a baby cradle and a gentle rock    
"Oh my God, did you see that Ron !"

We named him Joseph, after his grandfather who was a great artist
homilies of love spoken truthfully,  I cannot contain the joy
just given birth to a special boy and it feels like I've been kissed  
my love leans in and whispers " we'll give him every toy!"

With a sacral dimple you can't miss  
he looks like an Angel  
so I draw him close and feather him a kiss    
he gurgles as if to say, "I'm your Angel"    

October 8, 2020

A silver moon arrives to bathe me with her moonlight
sending me into a dream state of beauty and respire
With feet of  feather weight I never touch the ground
as I gaze at the beauty  that surrounds this  gauzy lake
Accustomed to the shadows of the night I gather long
around the hem of stars that shine down on my estate
I watch the flowers in my garden lay withered at me feet
while I trundle by the angels, one thousand more to keep
Some earthlings like to babble in their little cafes at night
but its all Greek to me for I rather lay between two clouds
swinging from a hammock, woolgathering, until dawn .

(What To Do When There  Is No Inspiration)

I open my mind to music and allow the sound waves to wash over me
then, soaking in the notes as if I were a skilled virtuoso
a master of the arts , I allow the sounds to meld and mesh in me
Lost in the ethereal feel of this peaceful moment ,  
I forget about phrases and compositions and begin to focus
on the appearance of color and imagery;  
When my soul feels the longing to write like the poets of old,  
I rise to the occasion and allow my mind to surprise me
with the many spectrums of written possibilities ;
I inhale deeply and begin my journey home to poetry  
Sometimes its one sentence, sometimes just a word
but as I string my thoughts together the music fades
and the beautiful glades of verse, magically appear before me
I give honor to my creative spirit and I give thanks to my muse;  
There is no  greater satisfaction on earth then being inspired
so after a long stay in the dessert, I give thanks to God
for showing me how to regress back to my original spark.

Late at night as I disappear from the public eye of the world
and leave behind all my worries and fears,
I take to the sky like a silent kite soaring in silence towards the stars
entering the sanctuary of a quiet moon;
With arms outstretched  I long for the sliver of dusk to bathe  me anew
and to clothe  me with her shimmering gown of shedding pink;
O'er by the sea I watch the urchins as they whisper to the mermaids
Captains christening their ships with  spy glass devotion,  
into the mysteries of night they go, gliding towards new horizons;
I lay on a hammock of woven cotton tucked between two hefty clouds of white,  no one here to sing to me except angels with their bugles and golden voices...
This is (my private universe) and only the stars are privy to my smiles,
as I glide into this daydream in the middle of the galaxy
Late at night I disappear from the world awash with eyes of stardust
in the morning I wake up and realize that the world is not my place ,
its only a parking lot for the human race, and I don't belong in it...

October 3, 2020

As Autumn scents return to me once more    
sending me to a sweet October brush
infringing on each leaf the earthen floor    
of reds and golds collect me in their rush;
While breezes raise the feathers off a thrush
I harbor long and sweet by rivers end
just basking in  the moment of Godsend;
Firing up my senses with cooling love,
she's crisply cleans my soul then with her tend    
she seasons me and fits me, like a glove.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R8nJSe8Jb0

Poetry read aloud ...

  Dreams are made of fairy dust and gold my mom once said
as she tucked me in real tight and kissed my sleepy  head
you will see stars of bright and little angels baking bread
there upon a cloud, a Pegasus with wings of finest thread
Dreams are made for human bodies full of goodness, light
you can get there if you try  and wish with all your might
you'll see blueberry moons with  eyes that wink so bright  
magic swords with pixie dust, that never fear the night
Fairies will rock you in their cradles by their garden nook
while you sleep five winks and create with just one look
up here you can be a butterfly lost in the winds of chinook
reveal most anything, you're transparent as an open book
Dreams are made of fairy dust and gold my mom once said
as she tucked me in I fell asleep, with angels in my head.

A speck on the glass a reflection  of someone I knew
once ago when the world was still  and so bran new
I was a chit of the future tilting her wings to the sky  
a babe with living to do before learning to fly ;
Mirrored to the image of God
I was often considered odd
a druid with fingers of sod
arriving, each time I was  called
A citizen of the earth with knowledge beyond compare
I always knew the world belonged to the birds of the air
far removed from the present, I lived in the future
by the scry of a rock and the cry of an eagle's demure
Reflector of light,  refracted conduit  
an alter full of candlelight,
a woman of air, water, fire, Spirit
I looked into God's eyes and knew for certain who I was .

I don't need little emoticons  I need sunshine in my face
I don't need face book likes I need you over by my place

I don't need messenger chat  I need a friend  with skin on
I don't need cel beebs nor empty stares that say  I'm gone

I don't want technology to rule my day its plastic anyway  
I don't want an email to say  "I'm having a baby any day"  

but I do want to write great poetry on a sunny beach and say,
this has been a great day, I haven't googled away, my day.

Within the sparkle of the sun the music of your eyes
and on your scented pillow a sudden flash of truth    
"we can reach the other side"
Silken kisses that slide inside my heart
full of memory ray  
Whispered secrets that make no sense
innocence of one lovely afternoon
what better way to spend our three o'clock
then wrapped inside each other's gauze, ;
emotionally in love like the first day we met
we sparkle like the sun, matching each others smile  
More brilliant then a thousand watts
More jubilant then seventh heaven
More blessed then angels at the archery of God
we are, ... thank you  !

I bequeath to my heart none else then pure love
and in the meantime all that is me around me and inside me  
I entrust to my Father in heaven;
Each and every thought I think, all feelings I insip
I bring forth to the alter of His mercy;  
I pray for strength and understanding, by the settle of my night  
May He send forth His Angels of  consort
and help me to attain a fitful sleep
as I breathe slowly and deeply, into the arms of love .
Amen!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrgU23IkC9w

Quoting: Veritia Venandi  "Eternal light shines through darkest eclipse "

When the heart breaks down and darkness wraps the soul
like a shawl made of wool with web like little aching holes
We long for the break of dawn to arrive and for stars to leave behind
their itsy bitsy spark of light
When we have been devoured by deception
lied and left to be discarded ,
the only thing that blesses is the morning
with her absolvent light ;
For what crime does a heart do when all it does is love
to the point of no return,  
what heart can stand the test of time once cracked in two?
It needs the tenacity of eternal light,  
even through the darkest of eclipse,
it needs a fighting chance, to cleave the night.