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.

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.

Valentine notions of floral bouquets
sweet sweetened chocolates from Brigadeiro
velvet talks and smooth kisses without delay,  
Cupid sure knows,  which way to shoot the arrow;
Darling cards that say I love you
better than a dream at heaven's door
bon bons, red balloons and blue
who could ask for anything more.
Beloved, dear, honey,sugar pie, precious  
these saccharine words cling to the heart
like a magnet to the soul, love is gracious
and always plays its part;

Agling thoughts that once did bloom like swiftlings
on a cleaned faced mind by the morning sun of day  
We sang songs of glory in our living room  
sailing on through the years that went by like lightening
We savored every mental picture every image,  
of a life well spent...

Morning air as I breathe you in  
I open the treasure chest of hope  
This moment on the mind says  
God is with me and I am free
In this quiet moment of reflection
I find a world of peace      
The river, the earth, the simple rose,  
all grown in the womb of my Father's love  
Blessed thoughts of gratefulness
I find the meaning of life, as I know it
Inside this poem the caress of Him
who gave me the gift to write
Morning air as I breathe you in  
I come to know why the stars don't dim
Its because of Him, isn't it ?

We were visiting good old Niagara Falls, the most beautiful place on earth. With its waterfall cadences and fresh lit sun, who could ask for anything more.  Hand in hand we strolled together wearing summer sandals light as air.  We talked and spoke of days to come, how we'd make a family  together some day.
Lovers in love
two linen gloves
fitted just right
There were acrobats, jugglers on tightropes, and children rippling the air with their tinkling laughter.  Together we aimed at little yellow ducks and won the grand prize. Hugging Mrs. Jewel Bug, we walked away kissing beneath a bluest sky dappled with cotton candy clouds and morning sighs. Since we stayed longer than expected,  we stopped by a little Cafe and drank frothy cappuccinos to our hearts content.  
full-fledged memories
golden colored hours
days gone by
Those were the days of impulsive escapades, endless surprises and pleasant up-comings.  Moments of mindlessness existence in a lifetime yet to be unspun. Today the mortgage is paid and the children left home.  My favorite juggler is in heaven waiting for an  old tattered Jewel bear and a swollen gal with a heart pliable as ghee. I smile at the thought that one day I will join him. We'll drink foamy coffees and watch the trapeze artists spin, swing and fly.  They will hang off ropes made of stars and moonbeams, just like us.

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2024

(A PERSONIFICATION POEM )

I was born cradled inside your palm  
within the perimeters of a safe haven  
brought to life by loving silty fingers
Rose is what I heard you call me
staying true to my appellative name
I chose to bloom inside your heart  
Many butterflies and bumblebees
sat on my flowerhead but only you
were the apple of my eye, dear heart
I was born to please you and only you
enclosed and surrounded I thrived,
like a rose, in a tangled mess of flowers.

Written by Mystic Rose

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.

Go ahead and lift your broken wings to the Lord
He is more than capable of stitching ever wayward feather
remember that you were once an angel in His ward
just like St Michael, back then you used to wear a sword
In A satchel of hope, he has placed brilliant silver
stars that never extinguished with the dying of the light
inside you...
He loved you despite your wounded self
He loved you despite your angry self
Don't allow Satan the opportunity to cleave you
and make you feel like throw away trash
He is the one that formed you in your mother's belly  
not a day goes by that He doesn't check on you
Remember that you were once an angel to reckon with
back in the days when the earth was a ball of blue
and it had nothing to do with you;
He loved you because your heart was His,  
He loves you still,  because you are still,    HIS *

Date: Feb 25, 2022
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
Contest Name Inspirational Christian

Burnt by love my soul is singed with pain ..
Wish it would rain


Embers of the past keep licking me like fire
nothing can quench the anger that is raging inside
when a woman has been cheated on and stepped on
there is no place to hide...
Destruction becomes her new path and deceit becomes mate
she smiles her ruby lips, the Mona Lisa pact induced  
deep inside are raging demons of revenge
I find him by the lake peacefully building a Stonehenge
I invite him to come home but he says,  
" I rather be alone "
so I sit and stew beneath the hot sun
isn't it sad when love goes awry,
and you find yourself sitting, with a smoking gun !

Whoever thought one day I'd let my hair go gray and walk with a sway
"They are only laughter lines" I told myself, disregarding a wrinkle in time.
I promised to be one of those ladies who would look suave at sixty five,  
but when you see me walk down the isle, I cannot hide that lombar slide.
I will wear dresses of fresh linen with only leather belts that buckle,
and when my shaky hands refuse to still, I'll blame it on my knuckles !
When I looked into the mirror then,... all I saw was a pretty girl,  
but now I see two kindly eyes and a memory impearled  !  
I rise at 6 and retire at 9, I sleep on my side for the one I adore,    
lovie says that when I snore, it sounds like a lion's roar !
I am happy with my life,  
and although I lose my train of thought sometimes,
I still wake up every morning feeling grateful,
that I am still able to dress, to the nines...

Nocturnal dreams of midnight fantasies
neon flowers alongside scented lily pads
Rippling clouds, crossings on the moon
magnetic fields of bluing, yes I see

Angels flying, flitting round the globe
calling over stars to light the path
Magistrates of heaven glorious chants
soft and mellow pastel, like the sea

Beatific vocals soft as voices of the earth
enigmatic secrets of a society, un-known  
Cooing doves, fragrances of evening musk  
Divine Beings attired in Elysian clothes like Deity.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYZC-VbcpRg

Surrender and bond with your inner self, breathe deeply
accept the moment that has been given to you and share
the inner circles of your positive energy, be yourself  

Immerse your thoughts in beautiful light and re-incarnate
with your present concept, it is there to teach you how
to live freely, without ties to earth dramas and misshapes

Repeat your mantra " I am potential " and enter into bliss
flower your thoughts and vine them to your corporal light
breathe in the oneness of the Universe and breathe out

Water your senses with peaceful rhythm and like water
move gently into the waves of contentment one breath
at a time...  Time erased, you are a nanosecond away,

Pen pals from the very start
scented paper and feathers of pink
inside a pre-kissed envelope of white
You, writing about the taste of Trinidad
by the sweet-burning smoke of a pipe blend,
me, whispering to you about the beauty of a snowflake  
as it comes swiveling down from heaven;
Letter writers of ancient times, hoping for love's arrow  
You, singing a Christmas Parang in a Trini voice of honey  
me,  with my faux fourrure and Christmas boots of leather;
Lovers yet to be my love but if this year I get my winter wish,
I will meet you by the Pigeon Point,   on December 29th,
with a glass of *** in one hand
and a plate of festive rice on the other
Together we will melt the last glacial memory
from our burning waiting hearts.

December 7 2021  

Meaning of Fourrure / french word for fur

Looks so peaceful there upon thy grave
where once these flowers never bloomed
I think the concrete angel on your stone
is lipping me a truth I've never known

Up there in heaven where you are
I could not rest like you my love
These hands were made for toiling darlin'
AND this heart was made for loving you, alone

Looks so calm here yet a storm is brewing
shackling my thoughts and rendering me sad
I think its almost time for God to close the gate
but if I hurry, maybe I can ****** you back to life ;

Up there where doves cry and Angels sigh
where flowers bloom at will on Abba's yonder sill
There is a bench for two engraved by you,  
some day we'll sit there just like we used to do.  

Words by: Mystic Rose

Rose scented candles burning softly through the night
aurora rays of holy fanning, beauteous returns
Emerald dreams give birth to dessert moon's ignite  
if life unfolds before you, meditate, discern ...

Ethereal reveries of flowers flushed in gold
pick a petal, sing a song, dance to hearts delight  
Heaven waits for angels just like you, unfold
before the sun and seize the light

Let the springtime share its prose  
watch the Bluestar flourish    
kiss the lilac, hold the rose,
close your eyes and make a wish

Rose colored glasses and fairy dust galore,  
the best things in life, you can't find in a store.

INTO THIS WORLD OF LOVE I HAVE BEEN PLANTED
LIKE A PRECIOUS SEED DEEP BENEATH THE SOIL
I GREW UP FULL OF HOPES AND DREAMS,  
BREATHING AND LIVING IN THIS BITTERSWEET EMBROIL;
I BELONG HERE IN AS MUCH AS THE SUN, MOON AND STARS
IN THIS WORLD OF LOVE, I TOO CAN SHINE
ALL THE KINDNESS AND LOVE IN MY HEART,  
I IMPART & GIVE TO THOSE WHO NEED IT MOST...

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.

I heard it from a good source that there ARE toilets in heaven
they are  called thrones and you must be pure to sit on one
When you do your BM it quickly turns gold, like the sun
aromatizing the sky with scent of roses at the count of seven

I heard it from a good source that there are chutes in heaven
aluminum coated tubes that deliver your innards to earth in a jiffy
you'll feel so Holy you'll want to hurry up and take a sniffy
before it all goes away, hug it,  and then count to seven

I heard it from a good source, the Angel in charge of pollution
that when Satan imposters arrive they are poked with a pin  
then as the dung falls out, it gets  neutralized with oil infusion
and sent back to that greasy devil who so loves sin  

So, if you spot a villain from hell better count until eleven
then flush twice and it will be eliminated from heaven
I heard it from a good source that Angels are savvy and smart
you can't get away with ** , for they got it down to an art.

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  .

Floral aspects of my life blooming in front of me
like wallpaper memories of my pink room
The smell of loose leaf hugging a red leather binder
flourishes underneath the sunlit words
of my young maiden's hand;
Looping letters that show the romantic side of me
small caricature vowels and nouns
that reveal the private parts that are never seen
Blushing mornings that drench the violets
in that little garden where father kept his vines
Quiet evenings spent in my room
talking to a Statue, "reflection of a Mystic soul"
I was so many girls back then, but today I am only one
A seasoned writer with who lives and strives  
despite the world's demise.

Dec 15, 2021

Note: Tortoises are  land-dwelling while turtles are aquatic

She sat on the back of a turtle
then said  " Go Go Go !"
While he on stumpy feet
       trumbled and humphed
"you are mighty hefty !"
he configured.  
She guided him to the water
then said   "Go Go Go !"
I know you want to, what is stopping you?
"You've mistaken me for a tortoise
little girl !"
She turns around and leads him to land,  
and together they sit in the sand...

The Red Train  (part two)
TO THE NORTH POLE OF COURSE...
The farmlands, bridges and country sides woosh by in a rush
then vanish before my eyes at a hundred and twenty six miles per hour.
My mind is traveling at the speed of Donner and Blitzen.  It goes through a magical hourglass only to nestle inside a cinnamon scented wagon that is infused with the clanking of fine china cups.  A peppery scent of hot chocolate perfumes the air and lands on my palate, sweetly.  
While I am being ushered forth into Christmas, I sift through  time, backpedaling swifter than Santa's mistletoe kiss.
I hear his rippling laughter and melt like butter.  My extra sensory perception picks up the echoes through the halls of my memory
and I say to myself, " I think I'm going home, to the North Pole of course."

Of them I have a few and I will admit this only to you
they are not from here and they are very, very blue
These little one foot creatures are from outer space
they are well behaved and have the cutest face.
I named one Volcano because of his cyborg strength,  
though he talks in monosyllables he also talks at length !
Then there is Jukebox, he loves to sing at night
he can hit an octave but he isn't very bright.
Out of all my little friends my favorite one is Hue,  
he's a Venutian little chatterbox and he isn't all that blue
He smiles so much that it gives him gas,
but I like him cuz he always makes me laugh,
and knows just what to do.

Copyright © Mystic Rose 2024

Like the hush of mobile crystals
stilling, inside a breezeless night
Like the echoes of distant stars
shimmying towards the moon

Its like tendrils of gray smoke
wafting through the temples
A silent Buddha contemplating  
beneath the Bodhi tree of life

Inner peace can only be realized
through the senses and the chi
You can only hear its splendor
when your sitting on God's knee.

Quite often I pick up my quill
and sit on my favorite seat
Although each writer knows the drill
not every author/muse do meet
sometimes she sleeps,  
at bard's ensweep

Repeatedly  the sun meets plume
with just one gaze she's all aglow;
Catching the scent of her perfume  
I scribe away by evening glow
but when she's here,  
she's oh,... so dear !

What is the color of love per se
is it heart pumping red
that gets to  your head
or crimson velvet like my chalet

How shall I sketch and paint you
should I outline you in opaline  
or trace you in soft green
can I easily blend in with you

Do we make a picture perfect painting
for all eyes to see
     or is it just you looking at me
don't mind me... if I do a little tinting

What color is love when it sits alone  
does it reflect every shade
              of your personal parade
is it hard to hold, or easily atoned  

What is the color of love ? Tell me.

    

Note: Per se  is a latin word.  It means, "By Itself"

Quote by author: Touch the cornerstone of our memories
and there you shall discover the amulet of love
that I once gave to you and you to me.  

In the face of love I find your heart and all you ever gave to me
the cherished days I held so dear the laughter of our youth
you
In the face of love my journey now complete is knitted
in the breaths we took together
we
In the face of love we conquered every hill
and every raging storm inside and out
us*
In the face of love no poem could describe our story,  
nor  show the hourglass of our beautiful lifetime

You touched my soul and melted it with yours my love
heart to heart no separation can ever take away
the joined assembly of our precious, precious, love.

"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."  Mary Oliver  

She became a leaf on a tree, a speck of dust, a limb still attached
shining like the sun she was the light that splayed upon nature's hour
but when the shadows came, she wrote her thoughts on a binder,
and became an evening cornflower.
Hungering by the river's edge she kept her secrets inside her diary  
as she glided with imaginative desire on a silver lake of dreams
A permanent work of art inked and set aside, her words
a filament of nature's calligraphy.
Every pocket of earth described every fern and mushroom narrated,  
by the apex of her linguistic, morphemes.
As the hourglass of time sifted finely down her filtered mind,
sweet poetry was born, germinated and seeded.  
Life grows naturedly so does poetry when the heart is opened
she became part of the all-inclusive in this sweet haven,  
where the everything and the always can only be described,  
by a writer's pen and pluck.

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.

I was a potatoe type of guy, forget the cookies and carrots,
didn't believe in Santa nor Cinderellas with golden chariots .
Twas' late at night as I crunched my chips I watched  TV  
lo and behold what did I hear ? a large thump and a humf,  
coming from the chimney, Oh Dear !
He stomped and he clomped then he said to me,  
" You live like a pigster and where is your sister ?
clean up your place, what the Hee!  "
He held up a sock and my heart went KerPlunk  
as I watched him remove, all my favorite junk...  
He then gave me a card that was both soft and hard
dipped in gold it was lanced with sweet magical stance.      
He then waited and hummed as he Jingle Belled some
"Its time for my pension" he said, then he paused.
"guess what ol' chap, you've been Sanctity Claused !"

Cupid the sweet saintling of Love Village decided to go visit Hawaii
Always dressed in a dapper diaper he looked love struck and dashing
with frosty gold hair combed just so and silver tip wings oh so fancy
he dropped love into hearts quicker than a penny in a bucket goes ping

When he landed on land he saw pineapples and Hawaiian luaus too
rounded hips slow swaying and voices greeting him like an old friend
They draped leis on his shoulders then said "welcome to Honolulu"
where dreams come true for everyone, yes we got the magic blend;

So they put him on a pedestal for he was after all messenger of love
he surfed in Lanai, Pineaple Island of sweet , oh you should see Him    
shooting arrows as he walked on water, fitting them all like a glove  
Lei skirts ruffled and feet shuffled, as the stars shone beneath a rim

They danced and they danced far into the night for love was finally here
Cupid did it once again in his dapper diaper and gold tipped spear.

"With eyes centered upon hope and deliverance
this heart of mine knows no other way to pray"

Give us Lord today the strength to do what we must do
to rise above the fears that have been imposed
on us this last passing year;
So many people hiding in their homes and waiting
Please open gate Father from heaven dry our tears;
I believe that if you want, you can subside this virus
and bring it to its' Kingdom come...
Dear Abba, anoint the Doctors and the nurses,
scientists and Ministers, police officers , and politicians
and help us be patient with all these new restrictions;
Abba ,giver of life and taker in death,
enable as we take our every breath;
I pray you hear me as I place this prayer on these lips
of mine, and others
Help us to be kind to one another after all,
we are all,  sisters and brothers.
Amen !
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 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.

In the dampness of those unslept sheets I find my solace
between the linear moments when you held my breath
and the last time we said goodbye:

Awakened by the thunder every calm fiber
goes dormant as I toss and turn
searching for the memory of your warm body
The rain slips easily from glass to ledge
and so do my tears;
Life with all its poignancy, cannot reach me here
beneath thick blankets of denial.
As I pretend the night away death does not exist,  
nor does it live here, anymore
In the dampness of those unslept sheets I find my solace
through poetry in flight,  
although I leave it to the angels,
to whisper you, goodnight !

Longing for the flowers that adorn my garden patch
I open wide the door that I imagine sits unlatched
Inside this magic land of mine, I'm longing to explore
every dainty blossom bud arranged with sweet adore
Une belle epoque, ..."a period of high artistic view"
each boutonnieres a whisper of, " and how are you ?"
Abiding in the charms of my annual florets,
I sit and take to wonder, how it is that we first met
It was Maytime and the sun was oh ! bran new
yes we were enamoured and we stuck like crazy glue
Two petals sharing one flower, we clung like poetry
leaning on each other sharing secrets, drinking tea
Oh but that was long ago, when love was all we knew
two flowers growing wild aside some gentle feverfews
Steadfast as the sun and moon we were back then
as I sit here in my garden for the life of me,
I cannot remember, when ?

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.

What the Dickens! Santa ain't wearing knickers
well his pants got caught inside the chimney
now here's the kicker...
Little Joe woke up in the middle of the night
and gave Santa such a jolly fright
now here's the kicker...
It was drafty there wasn't any gas nor heat
Mrs. Chump snored upstairs like dead meat
now here's the kicker...
Mr. C was 5 feet tall and wasn't a Clause at all
he didn't know how to rob Peter to pay Paul
now here's the kicker...
The real Ms. C owned a solar panel, Oh what fun
gave it to Ming Ming who flew like a Son Of A Gun!  
now here's the kicker... Eh !  
He burned Santa's pants then laughed, giggled, scoffed  
but as Santa  danced around the sun poured in the loft  
now here's the real kicker...
Christmas was a blast now little Joe C could finally be,
toasty as a glow worm in a house built for three.

Merry Christmas Everyone !  
Love,
From Santa's Girl  :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybZC0mgq4bY

Light a candle of love and share the spark with me
Breathe in the oxygen of dreams , together we can go far  
if we both believe in the awakening , dear souls...
Watch the stars as the shine of their own accord
they do not need a single thing as they accelerate and glide,  
slowly with deliberate light into the night sky ....
Right us a passage of pure liquid amber and gold
I will follow along with  you through the milky way
and through the cosmos,
we are fireflies dancing without skittish beneath God's
Palindrome,   filled with a thousand flickering amber shades
we glide through binary moments , heart beat to heart beat
recognizing the soul power in ourselves and others
Light me a candle of love and share the spark with others
who are navigating like citrine lanterns in the beautiful golden sky
breathe in the essence of your most treasured dreams and then
let go and let the journey home begin,  Namaste
in light and love,  Your beloved,  Mystic Rose.