It's a soup that's made to order never from a store  
A little bouillon treat that's filled with herbs galore
Not the kind you get from packets, no not that kind !
with itty bitty chicken bits it has onions you can find.
I start with chicken base then add a clove of garlic,  
turmeric and salt with a dash of home made magic.
I simmer for an hour while the veggies steam & swim,  
singing in a playful voice,   "a little blessed hymn".    
I start with a clean counter then tuck my hair right in  
wearing pinafore of white, with little ducks that swim    
I stew it then I stir it, with a large wooden spoon
telling funny stories to a soup that cooks til' noon
Made with love and kindness, it really hits the spot,    
I cook it just like mama did, when I was just a tot.
It's a soup that's made to order, never from a store,    
this little bouillon treat is filled with herbs galore.

Enjoy !

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.

Free from the frigid grip of winter's blow  
we enter a time of hay fevers and colds
Though April showers help the flowers grow  
they can be unkind, to creaky bones of old

The frosty cheeks of children everywhere
are pinned against a ***** window pane
The pristine snow of white has lost its glare
replaced by icky puddles and wet terrain

Spring, ...its not all about roses and shine
there are days when it rains and pours all day
She weaves herself around winter's entwine
and often leaves the earth too damp for play

I rather be making snow angels in the snow
then waiting and watching, for flowers to grow

Bright shiny new marbles, we knew just what to do
Bro and I slid them against the door, they went smack clickety clack
as we just laughed and rolled some more...
The year was 1967 and the colors in our head had wit and sparkle
we rolled them in the heel of our hand  turning them to the light
we would play for hours and never fight;
Then one day we grew old and the marbles were put away
I moved down South and Tony stayed in my childhood quarter
Today I pray each day that as the years go by, I won't begin to cry
over a lost marble or two, when the cells won't multiply
We had life in the palm of our hand but we were too young to know
that sooner or later, we had to change and grow...

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

Lyrics to a song I have created both music & word

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JrXxh67VbVQ

Refrain: Maybe all I could give you is the song of my heart
maybe all I could give you, is my melody

In the mist of my loving I have bloomed you a rose
for those winters of hunger when everything froze
enclosed in this journey, of just you and I
this passion and kindness is willing to die

Refrain: Maybe all I could give you is the song of my heart
maybe all I could give you, is my melody

In the haze of my senses I have given you love    
for the arms that have held me have brought me such light  
at the edge of the stars we are diamonds of sky
this intimate moment is just like a sigh

Refrain: Maybe all I could give you is the song of my heart
maybe all I could give you, is this melody.
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2023

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 !

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

Shivering me, lost in thoughts of falling snow
with eyes impaled on lights that blink and glow
I watch the Christmas scene unfold and flow
into a stitch of time, that hours can't un-sew

The little girl in me that once took life in toe
has disappeared from view and now I must forgo
the ringing of the bells this year, for I am still
standing at the window waiting for you,  Bill

Bereavement ***** and life can be a cruel blow
I am still trying to figure out this slippery hill
In my hands I hold three stones that I can't throw
and an armload of love that death can never ****

Perhaps through this I can traverse and grow
into a brilliant star of heaven and instill
the light that I once held that shone at will
inside these memories, that just won't go...

Memorial days of when my mind was clear as rain. Back then I did not feel so
Elementally insane.  I used to whip up a poem in minutes and smile like a
Neuromental trigger happy woman.  Then, as years went by I noticed the
Tell tale signs of aging and slowing.   Stress settled in as life changed and  
A virus spread through the land.  I swallowed my fears and continued to  
Love, live and laugh but something had changed.  Me... My mental health...

MEDITATE ON THE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE, IT WILL HELP YOU STAY FOCUSED :)

Healthy is the man and woman who digs her own garden or grave, I say  
Enlist in the power of heavenly beings and do your very best. Life is
A series of battles, lift your sword on high and don't let the devil win.
Learn to live with what you have and find strength and comfort in the  
Truth.  Mental health is pliable, it can break it can heal, it can change.  
Help is there if you ask for it. You are not alone, so share your story...

TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOUR MENTAL HEALTH, YOU ONLY HAVE ONE MIND !!!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyJ8WlVikKQ
YES THE HOUR OF WORSHIP HAS ARRIVED. TIME TO PRAISE THE HEAVENS AND
ALL ITS BRIGHT STARS . SPIRIT OF TRUTH, SPIRIT OF GENTILITY, WE WELCOME YOU
INTO OUR CIRCLE OF LOVE.
"I AM THE VINE, YOU ARE THE BRANCHES" SAYS HE. ABIDE IN ME AND I SHALL
ABIDE IN YOU. HERE IN THIS DWELLING GROUND , THE GREAT HEALING POWER
TALKS OF YOU. ALLOW YOUR BODIES TO FILL THE GARDEN.  YOU ARE ALL
SHAPED FLOWERS,  AROMATIC AS THE FIRST LEAVES OF SPRING , SCENTED
LIKE THE FIRST RAINFALL. FALL AFRESH AND RELAX (BREATHE )...
"SEARCH FOR ME WITH ALL YOUR HEART" SAYS HE, AND YOU WILL FIND ME.
I LIVE AMONGST THE STARS , INSIDE THE MOON, ABOVE THE CLOUDS OF WHITE .
DRAW YOURSELVES CLOSER TO THIS CELESTIAL SPHEREAND RECEIVE THE LIGHT
THAT WAS BORN TO MAKE YOU FEEL ALIVE AND WELL.  BE LIKE NEW BORN BABES,
TRUSTING AND CONFIDENT IN THE KNOWLEDGE THAT YOU ARE MOST VALUABLE.
AND WORTHY. (BREATHE)...
LET US DRIFT AWAY ON THE WINGS OF A GLORIOUS FLIGHT, UNAFRAID TO TOUCH
THE CORNERSTONE OF FAITH, "YOUR EARS SHALL BE BLESSED WITH THE SOUND OF
HARMONY " AND YOUR HEART WILL BE ANNOINTED WITH HAPPINESS AND
STABILITY.  
YES THE HOUR OF WORSHIP HAS ARRIVED. ITS TIME TO PRAISE THE HEAVENS  
AND ALL THE ANGELS OF LIGHT THAT COMMUNE THERE WITH YOU , AS YOU
SLOWLY SLIP INTO YOUR UNIVERSE OF PEACEFUL BLISS. (BREATHE)...

Blessings from above* Transformed lust to love* Delusion to illumination* Earth-heaven bilocation
                             

Heavenly Manna poured into our hearts like fine husked wheat
He makes sure we are always well fed and have enough to eat

Transforming lust to love, the pliable body learns with time
that the best kind of love is love agape, always close Divine

From false beliefs comes delusion, from delusion comes lies
only God can remove our blinders and open wide our eyes  

Earth to heaven, as we stand outside ourselves we enter into ecstasy
propelling the soul forward and negating all things that lead to heresy.

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.

Misty mornings
as gray as matter of invisible time
A porch light is lit but there is no one home
Fogged up windows and street lamp tenors  
a white wash sky achieves light    
as a shutter opens the mind is restored,    
it is no longer night.

I believe I fell asleep last year at the cusp of a new agenda.
As a new virus took root, I found myself eradicated from society
in a way I never imagined.
All of a sudden instead of immersing myself in music and dance
and coffee talk chats,  I found myself immersed in diluted contact
such as social distancing and Zoom;

mother-in-law dies
so does my bird named, Ringo
we bury them both
  
The same day we bury our Gloucester canary in the backyard,
we buried my mother in law, as I partook in a family funeral
miles away from home, I realized that the sun non-selectively
continued to shine no matter what .  So much has happened
in such a short span, I feel it is out of my hands.  


six months later
still waiting for the vaccine,  
life can be so mean

He pushed his shopping cart towards the empty tunnel
it was full of rattling empties and a brave cocker spaniel  
a penniless vagabond hiding from the rainy day pummel
wet,  cold, and hungry hunching closer to Jack Daniel  
he shared with his dog, a little square of flannel
  
Along came a mosquito with a straw-like mouth    
and crawled into the bottle with an empty spout  
The hobo drunk on ***** in a stupor from the sauce  
shut the insect in then hollered " so now whos boss !"
the dog did bark but heh, he wasn't in the land of Oz

so on his knees the hobo went and soon began to pray
"I didn't have to ****** him so why did I, oh why oh why "
and then the echo came from the empty tunnel's way  
"Don't cry my child after all it was just a fly !"  
confessed and reassured the hobo slept  until the light of day.

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.

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

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.

"My heart is a compass lost at sea finding its North in the gaze of thee."
This compass points directly at you  
whether your North East South or West
Aligned to your magnetic pole
I am being magnetized
You are an orientation arrow
my Polaris * my North Star
Configurator of my soul,  
I am yours *  
You are a trustworthy compass
without you I'd be lost
You are the magnet    
that altered the course of my life,  
             FOREVER !

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.

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

Quote: I don't want a perfect life I want a happy life

Children tumbling out of bed
coffee dripping from my old faded percolator
Stockings hanging from the shower curtain
mother's laughter from across the miles
Husband's wet kisses and the shuffle of feet
scraped toast, slamming front doors
The smell of mulched leaves
the way the sun slants over my kitchen window
I don't want a perfect life, just a happy one
Empty cafes and smokescreen writes
pulp fiction and doggie smiles and treats
eggs over easy and difficult puzzles to solve
hugs and kisses and fun between the sheets
tea for two, I love Lucy, and more dreams
then I can ever dream, just a happy life,
nothign more...

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

Before I down my cuppa, before I brush me teeth
let me go down on one knee and pray to thee
Before the sun arises and before the world rises
let me close my eyes so you can hear my cries

Lord, may you always be my guiding light and friend
so I can live beside you until the very end  
Lord, teach me how to be  brave in a world full of fear
so I can be truthful to myself no matter whom I draw near

Before I put on my makeup on and leave the house
let me walk towards your oceanic penthouse
Before I dip into the sea or walk onto encrusted earth
let me slip into my minion wings, the ones you gifted me at birth.

Far away by the oceanside  I sit and watch the seagulls fly
inside a pale orange sun that has yet to warm a reposing sand
Over by the boardwalk the air still hums of yesterday's feet
two youngsters feeding pelicans perched on feathered height

The smell of fried shrimp coming out of a windowless kitchen
tall glass pina colada bottles with little umbrellas inserted in  
down by the ocean the burgundy traces of a latent sun arrives
as we sip slowly, and eat quietly, atop the hotel peer

Its as if it happened yesterday but I can still smell the French fries
wrapped in plaid red and white paper drenched in crisping oils
Pungent odors of chlorinated water from the pool now all gone
replaced by freshly shampooed hair, and lingering sun tan lotion

Wearing a linen white dress and my recently purchased mala beads
I feel more Zen in my pinky today then I felt in a lifetime my friend
far away by that ocean it was the perfect vacation without any fear  
when I stop to think, I hope that I could return there, next year....

A winter  magic moment on the wings of seagulls  high
within the stillness of a forest an owl watches nigh
Floating snowflakes swivel, they are falling here and now    
while our little feathered friends, tweet their little sighs

Frosty light caresses, cardinals of red  
gently falling snow in the morning light
Bushy eyed white owls tufted in the snow
black and white woodpeckers,
peck and taps, alongside knock knock marks

Fairy spirits floating, dancing all about  
in a  magical cathedral, pure and pristine white
here the birds have silver tips and honey colored eyes
they always land in softly, with the cadence of the light.

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!

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.

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.

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

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.

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

You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep my faith will stand
And I will call upon Your Name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

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

Flowers outside the schoolroom grew bigger and brighter of their own volition. " Alice, Alice !" the teacher called.  All she saw was a saucer eyed girl sitting,  staring out the window. Sober as a Deacon she sat there with her mind blow-stitched to the earth.  Fireworks burst in the sky as a big purple blubber bounced out "Alice, Alice" ssssssssss was the sound it made as it  cupped out O with a sticky jelly mouth.  
he was from outer space
unlike her own race
he was soooo, gooey gooey!!!
A slight change in atmosphere and suddenly Alice fell topsy-turvy into a dark hole.  Exotic energy clung to her as she spun out of control and dropped into an inter-stellar tunnel filled with brilliant stars. Faster than the speed of light she travelled into a non existent wormhole.  A sweet little paper plate with eyes, nose and mouth greeted her on the other side. He spoke the infographics of his knowledge to her, sending shock waves of pleasure to her extra-sensory perception with telepathic communication;    
Lost in gravity waves  
time dilation ...  
She arrived safely.
Oh the flowers, the flowers were everywhere! Each specific tessitura sang to her in baritone, soprano, mezzo soprano and tenor.  It was an elevation of the highest senses.  Through vertical angles the sound was outsourced, so she listened with continuum " Alice, Alice " is what they sang in chorus.  She tried to determine where the melody was coming from but deep down she knew that this heavenly music was an extension of her and them.  Oh what a sweet tonality it was, both subdued and energetic at the same time. As the galaxies split, the tidal forces merged together and suddenly it made no difference where she was or how she got there. All she knew was she was finally home !