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

Quote by author: Angel feather colors hold no meaning,
if the messenger of God is not a paragon of virtue.

Every year she wore the plumage with such grace
and her beauty raptured every being around the liquid festival
Caribana black and gold tassels pasted on each tender ******
She lost herself in a night of debauchery.  One that took her further away from truth and the love that she so hungered for.
dance little lady dance
by a ***** man's glance
you don't stand a chance
That night she went too far and ended up by the side of the river. Her face streaked of mascara dripped onto a shattered heart, and turned into a million shards of glass.  A celebration of life turned deadly cold beneath the winds of deceit.  Sand blown bits of broken moon entered her soul as she lay still on the ground.  Heaven's stars muted stunned, held space as  
a concrete angel
invisible but able
touched by a glacial pulse  
noticed she was still breathing but scarcely, so wrapping the dying girl in feathers woven from God's fibrous root, she washed the red off her soaked plumage, and cleaned up her wounded back.  Two vestal hands bathed her with life's essence, and just like that, she was born again.
"Choose Life" was the last thing she heard uttered to her faint ear.   Then she heard the sound of a beautiful silence, as the Angel of God spread her glorious veiny wings and flew away.
the grass held its dew
and the wind blew
a woman child grew
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2023

So whom does the lightening
strike ?
While your hiding behind
that big oak tree.

In the dessert she did grow
like a rose without a thorn
shooting up towards the sun
Sofia's rose is next to none

In the sand a jewel bright
lost inside a sky so blue
aiming for the heaart
she rose, like a speckled rose  

Blooming without rain she did
in the font of her sweet-heart
wells of happiness did grow  
inside Sofia's heart, airflow !

Put on your palmate feet come dance in a flash  
you don't need know-how, you don't need cash  
if you love to quack
and you got the knack
then let me show you how to do the chicken splash

                              Walla walla hoo hoo hooray  
                               isn't it a lovely day
                               Walla walla choobidoo-doo
                                soon you won't be feeling blue !

Silence listens to the voices of the people
while on earth, a wisp of wind digresses  
In heaven God listens to each silent call  
at the footfalls of Silence...

Silence breathes quietly at the crack of dawn  
respiring softly at the ledge of twilight sunset  
Silence sits at the nucleus of our souls and lies
at the footfalls of Silence...

Silence is at the ear of the heart it does not speak
gently it leads us with a cupped hand to peace
It knows how to collect waterfalls and breezes
at the footfalls of Silence...

Silence is my linguistic heaven, my favorite speech
it is my mantra, my Yoga Master, my go to place
When things overwhelm I go to Silence and live,      
at the footfalls of Silence....

Conquistador your stallion is unbridled longing for
the company of an angel's            touch to brow
I see your breast plate armor has lost its sheen
but in your face I see the sign of cuts real clean
Conquistador, did you find what you were looking for

Conquistador, a vulture sits upon your silver shield
and though I searched for you inside a maze
I found no door ,no inner room
you were ready far too soon
Conquistador, did you find what you were looking for

Conquistador, there is no time like now so
raise your rust scabbard and take a newborn stand
I know your jewel-encrusted blade cannot lay still  
always ready for the action always ready for the ****
Conquistador, did you find what you were looking for

Conquistador, I came to jeer at you, with no regrets
and as the gloom begins to fall I see there is no, only all
I know you came with sword held high
although you came to conquer, do you want to die?  
Conquistador, did you find what you were looking for

Cackles were heard from down under on a hill far away
fifty little saucy spiders scurry helter skelter out to play
A hefty witch stirs her cauldron next to her Bagoon
snake eyes spoon an evil mush as feet dance around the room
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
The stars in heaven grow fangs and the moon wears a skirt of thorns
chainsaw demons flee the sky with decapitated scorn
Oh my oh my Halloween frights are here, although the night is young
old smelly garlic garlands have been strung,  
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
She's here to petrify, terrify, horrify and glorify her trade
when they get here they will drink purple blue Kool-aid
Oh Gee Oh Gosh she has lost her pompadour galosh
perhaps its hiding in the pumpkin squash
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead.

The scent of night perfumes my pillow here tonight
alongside jasmine dreams that will never go away
A traceless dusk awaits me by tomorrow's infant light
as I dream beneath the umbra of a lost forgotten day

Silently I revel by the flowered gates of Paradise
jarring open with my fingers parting veils of time
A harp of gold is being plucked right before my eyes
as I float towards its cadence, I feel quite sublime...

Ephemeral presences with feel and touch of home
everything is moving smoothly as I begin to slide
Judgement day I have arrived and I'm here alone      
as I sit before the Jury, I lose the urge to hide


Here inside this fragranced Kingdom an aromatic bliss,  
permeating right through heaven, like a gentle kiss.  

Copyright © Mystic Rose |  2024

Quote: Both the enchantress and the siren charmer
are part of the same one.  

Fired red wings on the breath of a dawning
he lifts and soars towards life, a breath away
from sunrise, chittering before he takes swing
this cardinal of beauty knows how to sing

she a rose in a luscious garden of pure love
a blush of pink dotted with pistil and grace  
a daylight sea of beauty sent from above
daybreak breaks and a flower opens her face

both the cardinal and the rose are essential
to our well being we need their reverence.  
He a sign of longevity so reverential,
she a sign of love and courage in her essence

we find the Echantress in all of our selves
in his, we find a siren charmer who delves.

Morning thoughts of you roses full of dew
gardens full of summer love, sweet romance  
here inside your arms we rebirth brand-new
like the morning sun when it starts to dance

Aborning sunlight cortef hours .... loved,  
like the pied colors of a rainbow burst.    
Glancing tinted shades two petals englobed
to the loving hands of time, we come first.

Inside this garden youthful hours of truth
reborn like the seasons we live nonetheless
despite of the winter mulched in vermouth
we pair up nicely, ... to nature's headdress

Morning blushes her cheeks and we turn right,      
like airborne angels, at the cusp of night.

Glass illusions forestry of butterflies in flight
swiveling and turning wing, aiming for sun
hovering over lulling waters of purple hues  
Breathing like flowers, frilling up the air
inside a cornucopia world of rich and bright
Birds are calling from afar symmetrical chirps
of grandeur, across the wide expanse
nocturnal illumination of the heart and soul
Varathane music sonatas, flute escapades  
within a dormant brook, nature's usurp
Fairies, trellises, and magic twigs interlinked
inside the Foloi forest, the mighty oak respires
aside centaurs and dryads, of their time
an emerald green, bottled by nature herself
all is transformed here even the sky is pinked  
Altered, Remodeled, Reworked, Transformed,
by my sweet, poetic imagination...
                           "Follow Me  "