Love is a war; a battlefield
looking for something real
in this world strewn with
shattered dreams.

Bombs and grenades blow holes
in innocent victims and
leave them to their pain
and despair.

I wait for my knight on horseback
to spare me.
I can hear the heavy hoofs and breathing of horses
as my army comes to stay the enemy of distrust.

My heart skips a beat
as I can almost feel salvation.
Holding my breath I wait for that which holds
my heart captive, to be slain.

Then you are here,along with
hope, joy, and freedom, your faithful companions,
to fill my heart and replace the blood
that has been spilt, with trust once again.

The child that you are,
living in an old man’s shell,
grabbing at glory,
while clinging to your tin crown.

Thumbing your nose,
at the good and noble,
you waste the voice given you,
as you sail into infamy.

The jungle makes its calls, welling up from hollows beyond.
Monkeys and wild things make their way through the spaces in between,
rapping from unseen places on long barriers
and marking their territory.

Sounds of birdsong fill the air calling out to all too few.
Others prowl the paths looking for prey in caves and behind walls.
Packs of banshees laugh as the chorus grows until the final call.
The last bell rings all are free run for home.

Crashing into life, frame shattered.
You’ve put an end to my flight down the eternal mile.
Red scattered about, broken shards of life by the roadside.
You have shut me down bruised and battered.

Can someone save this body of mine?
Can someone put this mind at peace?
Samaritans come to rescue and ease the pain
of a body and soul that can run no longer.

Oh blessed hands from above,
have you spared the heart that beats within?
Have you cupped me in your palm?
Can I believe that you stand by to protect me once more?

Now upon this stage I stand
with bloodied heart and soul in hand.
It’s mine to choose which step I take
and mine a lone decision make.

Forgive the painful sins long past
and rise above this hate at last?
To love this life once more I find
was just beyond my heart and mind.

Forgiveness which is just the start
for now I’ve found inside my heart
To see you in a different light
as guided by a Hand of might

I’ve waited for the strength to stand
To dance upon this stage again
I feel the cold black curtain lift
and greet this day, a newborn gift.

Many more will come this way,
for those of you I only pray
may you find peace as love’s restored
and find the feet to dance once more.

Within a world of azure blue,
the mantas glide with angel wings,
and fly on winds of ocean waves,
inside their realm of mystery.

Like ancient beings from the deep,
they flash and shimmer in our light,
with other-worldly mammoth forms;
cephalic fins and flattened frames.

These gentle giants of the night,
draw fishes from the briny deep,
their vivid forms flash to and fro,
feed on the banquet of the sea.

They dance balletic in our lights;
exquisite, rings and summersaults,
with bubbles lit to guide their path,
they glide just past our mortal reach.

These stunning marvels of the deep,
are but a finite sampling,
of what our planet offers up,
far past our wild imaginings.

You died, slipping into my memory like the ghost you were.
I held you high on a pedestal, above the winds of change.
But time caught up to the friend you once were,
and you fell too far for me to catch.

One night I had a blessed dream just after you had passed,
a dream about a crystal church, a place I’d come at last,
From a dark and dingy basement, through a hole that I had found,
a tunnel lined with precious gems, hues vibrant all around.

I crawled out at the other end and found myself a guest
in a crystal palace like the ones I’d seen from Europe’s best.
The place was vast, so beautiful, but still through glass I saw
the brightest sea of spring green grass spread out from the far wall.

The air shown bright with shimmering light, like glitter dust it wore
and all the walls reflected light I’d never seen before.
I turned to find me in the midst of figures glowing bright,
like beings lit within themselves in pure and holy light.

The angels that surrounded me had gathered all around,
Too busy with their newest guest to see I didn't belong.
I looked to one I knew was you and tried to hug you close,
But you had not yet gone to gaze upon the Heavenly Host.

And though on earth you were my size, you now looked down on me,
I understood, though nothing said, you had somewhere to be.
I watched as others led the way to a violet mountainside,
far off in the distance many walked with others side by side.

New bodies they were given seemed to float along the ground
a flawless, pure perfection given to all that could be found.
I stood there looking at the sight and knew that I’d been blessed,
and when I woke I felt at peace to know you were at rest.

Much time has past since this sweet dream, a vision from on High
was sent to me to calm my heart and say my last goodbye.
Though this it did, I still can see the angels and the hall,
a gift to see a glimpse of what is waiting for us all!

Our leaders in their crimson clothes,
made of the finest fabric found,
and those found backing their regime,
have set on them a royal crown.

Some blind to what is underneath;
hearts filled with darkness at their core,
stoked with divisiveness and greed,
they serve this narcissistic corp.

A leader’s job is this: to lead;
a Shepard, there to guard his flock,
in trials, they arm the battle lines,
protecting like the mighty hawk.

So, tear off the glitter and the glitz,
and tinsel of this TV game,
the constant barricade of shame,
tarnishing our nation and its name.

You are not here to entertain,
but lead us with the wisest minds,
but fools within their cloaks made new,
are still but fools; the worst of kinds.

In this our year of reckoning,
with demons we dare not discuss,
we cannot hide in cloaks of blame,
and hope this too shall pass from us.

Take up your right to choose again,
and send those tumbling to their knees,
for as they treated those they led,
so too their fate shall come to be.

Impressionist colors rising out of chocolate brown,
stretching chartreuse necks upwards.
Intertwining vines clutching each other in a desperate rhapsody of life,
all waiting to display their Creators’ palette of pure color.

Orchid and yellow chalices hold the morning dew
as all are christened in jeweled morning light.
With blue and white snow you carpet the ground
blanketing hillsides with hope of Monet.

Orange tongues of fire licking up towards the sun
while jade blades battle as new growth crowds in.
Blossoms hang full with a living harvest of yellow,
awaiting transport to another.

Stalks of dried grasses stirred by the August wind,
dancing to the rhythm of the warm stirring breeze.  
Summer now ebbing away in aged colors muted with brown,
returning to the muddied ground once again.

The first snow of winter, a most magical time,
when soft, gentle flakes float down from the sky.
They cover the sidewalks with light fluffy snow,
and light on one’s lashes and tickle one’s nose.

When Jack Frost bids eager young children to play,
in the season’s first snowfall, there can be no delay.
For the snowmen are calling, and sleds line the hills,
entreating the little ones, come get your fill.

The air becomes silent, in whiteness surrounds,
while a blanket of frostiness covers the ground.
And sun gleams on snowflakes that light up the sky,
bringing joy to the hearts of each passersby.

In the darkness of night, the quiet still grows,
and each flake brings a peace that the season bestows.
The moon glow reflects off the country gone white,
now heralds a season of wintery delight.

I am a fool who fell from skies,
caught up in a ride among stars.
I lost myself one summer’s night,
in the blue grey of your eyes.

We lifted off through timeless space,
unaware of friends and places.
Looking for moons beyond our own
and rising to the unknown.

But now my king has lost his shine,
as a knight’s armor tarnishes with tears.
Leaving me to feel
discarded, breathless and numb.

Only now I see, we were both alone,
as we stood in different places;  
me loving you
and you loving yourself alone.

Perfection can be deceiving
for a newly christened king.
But your queen neglected
to look inside…

the part that gives life
and love was gone,
the most important part.

P.S. a space and place for your heart.

From my earliest remembrance,
to this hour I have maintained,
I've never been contented
with a life of the mundane.

I’ve sought to spend each day in life
in search of curious things,
like art and education,
and the richness that they bring.

I hope to write more poetry
and share my verse in print,
and with my use of written word,
paint art with shades and tints.

I’ve been to many distant lands,
but yet my heart implores,
I seek out farther mysteries,
our planet has in store.

But now my body slows me down,
like most as we grow old,
and though I try, oft I fall short,
of plans I can control.

So, to keep myself companion,
while I will myself to heal,
I’ve formed all my ambitions,
which one day I plan to reach.

Since I was just a little child
I dreamt of life abroad,
in Kenya with the Maasai tribe,
I’ve always been enthralled.

I've fancied a safari,
where the famous five are found,
a land where great giraffes stand tall,
against the setting sun.

But, it is the Land Down Under,
that is first among my plans,
and one day soon I’ll see the coast,
of Sydney once again.

My friends will come to greet me,
though a lifetime I’ve been gone,
and united we’ll share memories,
for the present and beyond.

I’ll go for walks amidst the bush,
and hear the magpie’s tunes,
I’ll stroll beside the ghostly gums;
with nature grow attuned.

I’ll tour along the Southern Coast,
drive past Apostles tall,
and see the sites of Melbourne fair,
with all its cultured draw.

Then off to Kiwi’s northern isle,
with nature’s beauty rare,
fulfilling dreams so long desired,
to glimpse the Mauri’s there.

Waitomo, with its glow worm caves,
and Rotorua’s pools,
with geysers, Eco thermal parks,
and Bay of Islands too.

As I make my way back to the states,
I’ll stop along the way,
to visit Fiji’s turquoise coast,
and snorkel time away.

I’ll learn about the culture,
and partake of Fiji’s fare,
and when I go, I hope to leave,
a part of my heart there.

The coast of California,
on my list of sites to see;
from the Wharf in San Francisco,
to the vineyards by the sea.

I dream of redwoods sure and tall:
the parks and smell of pines,
and stand amid the ancient firs,
lest they pass for all of time.

I plan to visit Florence,
where master artists roamed;
the heart of Tuscan Renaissance,
where da Vinci made his home.

I hope to cruise Amalfi’s coast,
with others at the helm,
to view the brilliance of the sights,
and others in the realm.

While in the South of Italy,
I’ll cross the briny foam,
and walk the hills in Athens,
where ancient Grecians roamed.

I dream of Amazonia,
where man has not destroyed,
and natives live within the wild,
with harmony employed.

The last one on my bucket list,
is one I’d left undone,
when first I made my maiden trip,
and I was twenty-one.

I’d hoped to see the Emerald Isle,
and England’s castles old,
Duke’s palaces and British Tate,
are marvels to behold.

I’ll drive the ring of Kerry,
and the magic Isle of Skye,
to see its Fairy Pools of hues,
and Highland’s brilliance sights.

The lush green grass of Glen Coe,
the Scottish hills await,
would be a lifelong dream fulfilled
when all my trials abate.

With this, my final dream fulfilled,
I see my list complete,
full circle with this Commonwealth,
my restless feet at peace.

But ‘til that time when I am healed,
and I can travel far,
I’ll dream of lands beyond my reach,
and one day touch the stars.

Your voices whisper on the wind,
a haunting sigh; your spirit’s breath.
Entrapped the day your light was dimmed;
within the spot your bodies bled.

Amidst the ruins of yesterday,
your apparitions call to mind,
and heavily they weigh upon,
the childhood heart I left behind.

Love has found me once again,
just like the touch of some lost friend.
And like a friend it speaks to me
and tells me of what I long to see.

The love has been here all the time,
and to this truth I have been blind.
You see it lives inside my heart.
It's been here from the very start.

That gift of love from Thy own mind,
has been in all of us we find.
Through all the troubles, joys and tests,
we find our love outlasts the rest.

The silence that surrounds us now; a gift that few appreciate,
as oft’ we grumble and complain, and pray deliv’ry from our fate.
For now we go about our lives, we do so often quite alone,
and many work to just survive, while staying safely in their home.
.
The crowded markets and the malls, where we so often spent our days,
we’ve learned to do without the halls, that in their buildings isolate.
Now as we go throughout our days, the peacefulness we often seek,
is here to guide us through these months, and help us find our treasures deep.

For some it’s time spent with our youth and others find the time to read,
so many search within for truth and others learn the skills to lead.
For me, perception is the key, to how I use this precious time,
and what my future has for me, I’m given now by fate’s design.

Floating on a silent breeze, as light as breathless cries.
At last the truth is known to me amidst the pack of the lies
and keys that kept me locked in time have proved my be my own.
I looked within myself at last to see my soul had flown.

I once believed the fault was mine and mine to bear alone
to pay back for some unseen sin or flaw that I had shown.
But you my love had held the truth to ease your guilty pain
not thinking that you’d break my heart and let me cry in vain.

Now riddles of he silent past have let the truth reveal
and shown me all I had to find and what I could not feel.
The truth is known to me at last and I no longer need
to fight the cries within my heart, they’re silent as the breeze.

Each autumn, my heart aches for  you,
and drifts back to so long ago,
with smells and sounds of fall’s awakening.
What seems like just a few short weeks,
a lifetime swiftly passed me by.

You left us on that Tuesday morn,
as rain seeped from the wet outside,
and caused our eyes overflow,
raining down on tear stained cheeks,
that drenched us in bittersweet release.

We huddled round your dying chair,
while softly holding silenced hands,
as if to hold fast to your soul,
embosomed to its earthly bonds,
hearts longing that you stay,

Our broken hearts could not endure,
but knowing that your time was nigh,
we placed a kiss upon your cheek
and with a blessing sent you off,
to be at peace from cancer’s grip.

And as you drew that one last breath,
you mouthed those words bereft of sound,
and with that final breath bestowed,
on us a gift, your dying words of
“I love you”.

We lost our innocence last week.
You came into our lives picking them clean,
stealing from us the peace and calm
of a life without fear.

You crept in with your AKAs,
with your anger dripping from your guns;
your violence became ours,
along with its silent fears.

You cloud our minds and haunt our dreams 
as you creep into our nightmares. 
We search for ways to escape, but find no hope 
while you are in our memories.

We have bargained away our future 
for want of power and wealth.
But I have always known that guns 
were traded for lives and souls.

I’ve kept to the high road in life,
only in my mind.
Thinking myself wise to avoid
the pitfalls others faced.

A warm wind blew up from my past
and there you stood.
A memory of childhood
and view to my future.

Old and new, my path I find in you.
You’ve led me to the back roads,
on trails I’d left ignored,
looking outside the familiar at you.

For a while we walked together,
hand in hand following love’s path
caught up in the voice it called.
Suddenly, I found you had gone, taking another path.

Now I’m left abandoned, alone again
blinded by my fear to move.
For I’ve lost my way on these back roads
without my guide and without my love.

Can you find me hiding here beneath this veil
Can you see the real me?
Did you look inside this woman to find the
frightened insecure girl wanting only to be loved.

Amidst a closet of memories you find me,
in your simple orange shell with hidden hues within.
Your well-worn watercolors, reverent seeds of future art,
precious keepsakes of your memory still remains.

The magic art you housed brought light to early days
and life to the grayness of the cultureless country;
days of purposelessness and aimlessness, without end;
countless days of sheltering against nature, you painted my life with hope.

Mere words can never quite convey,
the majesty of nature’s brush;
its sunset’s vibrant flaming rays,
and pastel hues of morning’s blush.

The whitened peaks that touch the sky,
with mountain slopes that halt our breaths,
are laced with orchid grandeur high,
and lofty clouds their craigs protect.

The desert contrasts, stunning hues;
with reddish orange of sunburnt sands,
and skies that fall as azure blues,
are painted daily with those hands.

No, none can capture nature’s soul,
and recreate it’s splendid form,
for though we try we cannot know,
this Master who from dust transforms.

A lover like an impressionist masterpiece,
stroked with a loving hand and
painted by its master,
dressed in its finest to frame the beauty within.

You, my love, were like that master
painting me to reflect the person you saw inside,  
creating a world for you to hold,
molding me into the ballet of colors that dance in your eyes.

The mighty sea, majestic rolls,
its strength beyond our mortal realm,
within that awesome, mystery,
the fearsome breath of life still swims.

While navy seas beneath me thrive,
and beckon to the wild in me.
Their furled waves hit strong and true,
and buffet while their cyclones rage.

And with their true majestic strength,
which is the sea, its power released,
rolls deep and awesome under foot
and I, in fearless awe, abide.

Rising from ashes like the fabled phoenix
Growing out of nothingness to a possibility of life
I am but a tiny whisper of a breath, still struggling to be.  
with life renewed yet to be lived.

I am born to a freedom to be
what I will… what I choose to be.
Can I truly be all that I am; what I was made to be?
My slate is wiped clean by you.  

Debts repaid and fears released,
Replaced by age and broken hearts.
Why did this have to be so harrowing a life.
Why did I have to die to live?

Our heart, is offered up,
as a sacrifice to love,
like a ****** lamb
on its way to slaughter.

When love takes its leave,
for whatever reason fate may have,
it always steals a bit,
of that beating heart.

The pain of love departed,
is the price we pay,
for loving deeply,
and completely.

The snow falls silent,
on this cold, crisp winter’s day,
lightly dancing on the wind,
inviting me to join in its ballet of ice.

Enchanted by its frozen magic,
as it shimmers and winks at me,
it’s magic works its spell,
and I join in the dance.

I strolled this street of opulence,
where snow, it seems, tastes twice as sweet,
and magic smells assail our sense,
and music dances on the breeze.

The air of grandness on this street,
with buildings dressed in twilight rose.
Aristocrats with wealth, replete,
are dressed to taste this evening snow.

But truthfully the difference lies,
within the heart of those who see,
the truth inside the fantasy,
when snow falls on this Paris street.

Life has run away from me as I play this game of chance.
One at a time you have fallen before me, you fabled soulmates.
The scars run deep, my heart crusted over with the soles of those
who have so carelessly trod on my lifeblood.

You who have made me, could you not have shown me the danger of a love untrue?
I have been chained to the players of hearts throughout all time.
You have been quiet for too long.  Can you not hear my call?
Why do you keep silent in my time of need? Why do I not hear your comfort, your voice?

My soul calls out to find a love that binds with more than a gilded ring,
created from a spirit so true, intertwining with mine and becoming my own.
I’ve searched my whole life through for such a love;
one who is drawn to the life and soul of the me within.

In the space between twilight and the blues,
I stand searching to find the door,
that will free me from this prison cell
and let me cry no more.

Trying to find the will to leave
or the courage to step outside;
to find the road that leads away
and not just run and hide.

I’m losing hope to find the way
in this maze that life has cast,
So I bury myself beneath my work
and try to forget the past.

But past is past and now is now,
and the future cannot command,
in the space between twilight and blues
where I now am forced to stand.

You whisper on the morning wind,
amid the silent majesty,
and in thin places that I find,
I still can sense your energy.

A place of solitude and peace,
beyond the realm of humankind,
where in the silence yet you speak,
above the din of all mankind.

These mystic places here on earth,
the veil between our worlds stretched thin,
where we can listen to your voice,
and feel your presence on the wind.

Your thistles sprouted long ago, at our birth;
seeds from corrupt distant lands,
found root inside our soil flourishing, unchecked,
we grew blind to the depth of your scourge.

Small and unnoticed, in a corner of our land,
still, we turned and let you grow,
refusing to address your prickly stalk,
blindly thinking you would die.

But seeds of your thorns have grown throughout,
floating on the winds of hate, spreading its toxins,,
crowding out the wonder that could be ours,
spoiling its soil with your roots that run deep.

Now our land, filled with thorns, with deadly poison grow,
infested, a bountiful harvest of anger and hate.
We follow the rest in sorrow and shame,
in a land where wicked blooms grow.

The wood beacons me with quiet whispers,
whistling through leaves and branches bare.
Songs of ancient, enchanted trees
and spirits dancing in joyous delight.

A low moan in the night implores me,
inviting me deep into its glade,
to witness heaven’s masterwork
in awakening stars that light my way.

I feel the spirits, amidst the twilight’s mist,
embracing me, welcoming me.
My child dances joyously within
as I find my way back home.

You call to me from the corner of my room
where you  slumber,
imploring me to take you in my arms
and stroke you once again.

I dream of poets who came before,
of Cohen and Frost, Angelo and Dylan.
Poets who colored our hearts
with magic few could err forget.

They speak to me once again
in whispered voices,
entreating me to sing my own song
and make my voice heard.

I carefully take you in my arms
caressing you once again,
like a long-lost lover, singing softly,
drawing out your hidden melodies.

Misted jade mountains tower above,
surrounding me in a semicircle of tropical beauty.
On a warm white beach of my sandy bed, I found my Tahitian tan,
as the rhythmic waves sang their song, lulling me to sleep.

At night under the khaki green canvas of a rented tent, I hid,
its sides protecting me from dangers in the night;
palm sized spiders, alien insects, and falling coconuts…
I hold out for the safety of day of my cozy soft sand.

Thus, I found myself at a time fate sneered at me;
as I pitched a tent under the coconut palms;
with other travelers I happened upon while adventuring:
ivy league graduates, a burly pipeline worker, and me.

My memories are rich with the smells, sounds, and feel of the Pacific;
vignettes of lush blanketed mountains, wrapped in bright turquoise seas,
and me, barefoot in the surf, eating fresh coconut from a newly cut husks,
enjoying golden days in the sun.

The world speeds past eyes unseen,
as if through empty window panes,
but I have taken time to see,
through this my camera’s lens.

The changing colors of the tree,
when autumn tips its leaves with orange;
the beauty of the shallow seas,
and majesty of the world within.

In cityscapes of the world around;
of Italy’s colossal Roman ruins,
upon each painting found on walls
of museums and hallowed halls.

I’ve captured these for aged self,
and fill my empty window panes with
proof to view a life that’s full.
recalling those sweet memories.

Once through my bolted windowpane, so oft I saw the angry rain,
and as my life lie on the floor, I once endured a tortured war.
And through those rain-streaked by-gone days, my world was stained a muddied gray,
while fighting through the struggles of each day.

But now my window's open wide, the vastness of today can’t hide,
I see a world of brilliant hues, through eyes that see a different view.
‘Tis hope that brings me to my feet, and makes me dance with joy complete,
to sounds of life that come with bliss so sweet.

Life calls me now upon the wind, to join it’s dance of life again,
it brings joy to this aging soul, for what was broken, now’s made whole,
and through that window now I see, the beauty life was meant to be;
like magpies singing on the morning breeze.

You love me with a love,
timeless in this world
of thrown away dreams, relationships and love.

You make me believe in the eternal
the make believe and the invisible
forces at work in our lives.

You have been there
through all the hard times,
when I did not believe.

You have lifted me
to the heavens and beyond
to a new world eternal in you.

My life is changing, transforming,
growing, without a whisper of notice.

No longer do I recognize myself,
for what I was yesterday has flown.

But regret is not within my heart,
for it becomes me, like the colors I wear.

For change is growth, and growth is life;
to live is change, the past is but a memory.

You're hot, like Death Valley in July,
so hot, one touch could make me cry.
Hot, like the face of the summer sun
and in my heart I know you're the only one.

I try my best to keep my cool,
not wanting to play another man's fool,
But I've been patient for far too long
to tell you what I feel is strong.

You call my name and I grow weak
and struggle just to find my feet.
You make me feel like I was young
like springtime or a song that's sung.

You're hot, sizzling like the sun at noon,
like the sunshine on a desert dune.
Can you feel the love that you've inspired
and give me what my heart desires?

Blown by a warm south wind, I sail off to sea,
that's the path it seems that life has had for me.
Adventure whispers in my ear and calls me out it seems,
and gathers me along with all my hopes and dreams.

I dream of all the trips I'll take when life is simpler still,
and I wait to walk on beaches until I have had my fill.
I gaze into the eyes of my true love who stands here by my side,
as I watch for the rising of the sun and of the morning tide.  

I hold on to the hand of this true miracle of men,
and I'll keep him in this heart of mine until the very end.
The man I speak of truly was a gift from up above,
and I cannot live without him or without his gift of love.

He came to me a stranger, then became a steadfast friend
and led me from my misery and helped my heart to mend.
He guided me with his hand to be the woman I am now
and helped me to the place that started with a vow.

Now as the trade winds ******* I cannot help but think,
of the beauty by my side and the love that doesn't sink.
When adventure calls to me and whispers in my ear,
I cannot help but hold your hand and pray that you'll be here.

Sitting in a café on a Saturday afternoon,
softly humming to the singing and guitars.
My mind sails back to thought of you from years gone by too fast,
while songs of love come floating from afar.

Like memories gleaned sweat by time these songs bring more than tears,
as chords of Harvest Moon come shining through.
The years we walked together now are more like far off rhymes,
but then what I wanted most was you.

Familiar are these old songs that are played and sung through time,
that I find myself just rockin' to the tune.
And I like to think these melodies will someday make us see,
all these songs will lead back to deja vu.

Deja vu, would you play my song again,
a song to make those memories never end?
A song to make those moments stay and take me back to yesterday,
a song of peace to help my heart to mend.

We glide through life on hollow wings, while making art with earthly things,
when halting beauty stops us all around.
Unmindful of the world we share and gifts that we are given here,
content to fool ourselves with pleasures found.

We search in vain like fools to find, a beauty of a special kind,
a noise that forces all the world to see,
how wonderful our talents are to spread our names and voices far
and let us live into eternity.

How foolishly to think that we can along with czars and magic men
to light a fire that burns eternally.  
When most our hopes and dreams can bear is lifelong bliss in moments shared,
while hand in hand, I run away with you.

Dancing under the midnight stars
with the Southern Cross so bright,
while music floats on a gentle breeze
and my love holding me tight.

Your eyes like the fire that lights my soul
gaze into mine with delight,
as you press your body close to mine
and we move to the sounds of the night.

You whisper my name so soft and low,
I answer and am entranced,
and my heart beats so loudly like drums in the night
to the rhythm of the dance.

You have moved me so, like no one else,
and with this sweet thought I'll stay.
You've come to me like a thief in the night
and stole my heart away.

Feeling the box I work in closing in on me during winter’s last gasp,
She has dug in her heals refusing to yield to warmth.
Unmerciful and unrepentant in her bitterness,
she taunts and tortures us all.

Yet, spring birds sing of spring as a lover sings of her man.
The sun struggles to break through the dark grey,
melting away the dim cold
and drabness that surrounds all.

I sit beside your beloved pond,
filled with waterlilies of magenta and white,
painted on the water’s surface,
while dragonflies flit about its glassy face.

I walk the paths you gifted us;
your voice speaks to me within the trees
as you sing your great love song,
within this painted land and garden blooms.

Amidst the midday sun, stinging hot upon my neck,
I find shade beneath your willows,
as I gaze through tears of gratefulness,
at the quiet beauty you left behind.

Waiting for spring to return this winter’s day.
Straining to touch warm breezes of the past.
Caught in this prison of gray and white.
Wishing to break these dark chains that hold me.

Remnants of fall, crumpled like brown paper on the ground.
Straws of pale brown growing up through the snow, ******* it dry.
Seeds and freeze dried fruit lay scattered about under trees.
Bare limbs and stalks drip with liquid glass.

Trees hanging bare, gray in lifelessness.
Winter birds call out, single in their pursuit of leftover meals.
Tracks of animals unknown dot the landscape with patchwork.
Waves of ridges etched in white lead off to nowhere.

Sparse, sun filled days bring brief glimpses of hope.
With the promise of warmth waiting to banish the cold
that holds me to my past and this existence;
waiting for spring to return and thaw this frozen heart.

Waiting for the springtime warmth,
to melt away the snows,
I see the green of springtime growth,
break through the crust below.

Through long and frigid winter months
and dangers that were fraught,
our northern states have braved the cold,
that mother nature brought.

Through banks of ice cream frosted snow,
that wrapped the land in white,
the brave green shoots of newborn grass,
peek through with morning's light.

The cold is lifting, none too soon;
it’s fled before the melt,
and left this wanting, summer soul,
rapt with the joy I've felt.

We’re a bit of the heavens,
we’re made of the stars,
of the Power beyond us,
the cosmos and Mars.

The heavens we’re part of,
has given us birth,
we’re part of its royalty,
stardust, and earth.

Our body, a shell,
for what’s living inside;
our spirit, the power,
that’s waiting to fly.

This spirit, though royal,
our life is so brief,
we lose sight of our purpose,
while time acts like a thief.

Oft we take life for granted,
if we’d only see,
we’re a part of the stardust,
and of its majesty.