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Where Shelter Aug 2023
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”To dream by the oak and awake by the sea
when August has ripened and turned Jubilee
you must enter dominion of summer's delight
and live in the rapture of candescent light

Oh to live and to love one must first learn to kiss,  
the kinetics of summer, with eternal bliss.”


~from vienna bombardieri’s poem, “Kinetics Of Summer~
(with her kind permission)

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First verse pinpoints accurate, this,
my spot!
by oak and sea,
my precise longitude and latitude, where my summertime
eyes open to receive the gift of morning’s light, observing
the conjunction of land, hard by the sea, the land-ed avian gentry
and sea~sailor birds interacting, sharing the uprising currents,
for sport and observation, travel and pleasured sailing,
these “Masters of the Sky can fly for hours (or days), while barely flapping,” and this verse stuns, and
my shock,

at these, her words
my breathing is gasped and grasped
by oak and sea, for so it be,
this is where
my morning’s operatic scrum, ballet and dance hall hullabaloo,
my diurnal natural choreography is performed,
while slow sipping my very heated first coffee

it was here
that I learned to love more easily,
for the kinetics of summers trio of sun, sky, and moderate breezes,
lulled the turbulence of my disheartened lives into an easier
order, the world~surround, a living, breathing exercise that
warmed the spirit, cooled the soul, and spoke without uttering
a single word,
here dear person, is the where and the when,
the comfort of the natural-blanket
that enwraps, covers, cherishes the atmosphere entire,
containing the healing elixirs and protective ointments,
that remove the
plaque of life’s accumulated injuries, slights and scar tissue

simply put,
here I breath freely,
here I see with clarity
here the infusions of
living in nature, prolongs,
restore, remind, enliven
and enhances,
the intermixture of
body and soul

here in actual deed,
the kiss of summer bliss
upon
my tiring cell’s walls,
are resurrected even unto the nuclei,
by the warm breath of sun life and sun light,
and the breezes of salty sweet caramel air
and under their loving, combined-dominion
am I
resurrected and will yet sense,
one more Jubilee again
as I lay dreaming
by the oak and the sea…
great appreciation to Vienna B. for the beautiful poem she wrote,
and thanks for the inspiration!
Always be dreaming!
W.S.
Dr Peter Lim Aug 2020
Words I dearly treasure
I'll cause no pain whatsoever
I am but a poor writer
I scribble now and forever
Quote by : James Russell Lowell
All God's Angels Come To Us Disguised


A glimpse of light beyond the sea
soft gentle winds upon the shore
a whispered secret I can't see
you are the angel, I adore
a breath away from your influx
I enter in and you restore
concealed beyond earth's parallax
you are the angel, I adore
Archangel of God's Paragon
protector of the rich and poor
you come to serve as you bring calm
you are the angel, I adore
A glimpse of light beyond the sea,
you are the angel, I adore.

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

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

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

Written by: Vienna Bombardieri
I am a writer; it has taken me decades to admit that about myself. I use poetry to excavate meaning, to express love, to appreciate human frailty. I wish to share and celebrate these emotional moments with other writers and grow within a community.

South City Lady 2h
residue
truth leaks between words
when solitude bends
& cradles the past we are
always a child
within the recesses
of a smile  the sinner
kneeling before the altar
of our saint we are
sands of time adrift
in a storm never recollecting

each caught between
nail beds and wisps of hair
tied in ribbons of distant youth
we are mirrors cracked
& misshapen
seldom self reflecting
for fear that if we silence
the noise too long
we'll be caught
listening to sobs
of rain collecting
in gutters heaving

with resistance
an ever aching
reverberation
who have I become
who have
I
        become?
#maturity #reflection
South City Lady
Written by
South City Lady  49/F
Following
      
vienna bombardieri  Your writing is full of honesty and revealing phrases that I admire. You show great maturity in your writing dear South City Lady, Keep u the great writes. Blessings.

first day
Sitting in the faculty lot
thinking how I'm as nervous

— The End —