wash warm hues, gentle brush
across a heart forgotten.
it’s soft caress no sadness lingers
renew it’s every fray and tear.
create a masterpiece, my lovely
erase all coloring of fear.
nuance streamed light and shadows
our layered texture, sweet romance.
and devote each waking minute
as Monet with Lily Pads.
No Christmas tree adorned our living room
this year. Our children traveled. So did we.
A few small decorations blessed the bloom
of Christmas in our home. We couldn’t see
the ornaments and tell the stories one
more time of how they came to be, but light
from glowing candles gave us indoor sun
and made the season merry, lovely, bright.
Photographed by Sheryl @ Flowery Prose.
Pretty when void of color as well
This poem is not for my precious son, whose death
took everything from me that I hung on to, believed in.
It is for those who can’t see that I am still here.
but I have been forced to live in a world where there
is not glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
I’m so tired of it all, so tired of the lies.
The further I fall, the higher you rise.
It takes all I have, each moment I try,
I give and I give, till I think I will die.
I’m sorry that I was never enough,
My heart is long dead, the road’s been so rough.
All that I have, I have given to you.
And what have I left? No joy and no you.
Just leave me here in my prison, my home,
Cause when you are here, I still feel alone.
Not a thing I’ve endured, suffered, survived.
Has helped you to notice, that I’m still alive.
I still feel, I still hope, I still love, I still try.
Somehow through the darkness, I still survive.
Take just one heartbeat, one touch, one breath,
And remember I will love you till nothing is left.
I see a light beam
At the horizon
May be it is an omen
Saying to me
To have some faith
In the decision I have made
Leave behind my fears
Leave aside my anxiety
And aim at
Fulfilling what I desire
Rise towards the sky
And have some faith
In me and my
Decision for my life.
Haiku
the light ripples on
the waters of turquoise sea
smoke billows in air.
Hay(na)ku
rippling
on water’s
surface, is light.
*Hay(na)ku is a three-line poem with 1 word in first line, 2 words in second line and 3 words in third line. It can be written in reverse order as well.
Beware: It is quite difficult- at least I think so.
Here are the rules-
Here is what I wrote(its a little silly)-
shadow in light,
brain’s light is
slight
is light, brain’s light
in shadow.
Sometimes I
admire the
moon for it
cannot match
the sun’s glory
so it finds
it’s own patch
of sky to
brighten.
Sometimes I
admire the
nightingale
for it is drowned
out in the shrilly
shouts of other
fowls so it
finds its own
silence to
liven.
Sometimes I
strive for the
sun yet I
can’t reach it,
so I aim for
the twinkling
stars instead.
Somewhere
over the rainbow
the colour black
is weeping,
but then she
realizes the
mysterious beauty
of the night.
Oh my my childish mind
Why you do fidgeting
Running to this extreme
And then to that
Why you no concentrating
It is your slave’s exam
Why you no study
Oh my my master
Oh my my mind
Why you go to the dark
Out of the blue
Why you not absorb light
And enlighten your slave
With a good feeling for once
Oh my my master, my mind
Oh my my childish mind.
Finding the way through the darkness,
that dwells on the street,
Finding that ray of light in the dark,
that hides within the corners of the street.
Looking for it, I get distracted by the darkness,
which attracts me,
And get side-tracked from the light,
which will end all my agonies.
This way is so difficult,
The path to light, unknown, untouched.
I do not know what I seek-
The magnificent darkness which surrounds me,
or that ray of light hidden, yet to be found.
I seek to know what I seek and that is all,
That is all I seek, I want to know,
to know what I seek, what I want.
I spent the better part of three plus decades working at night. Chasing the demons and dodging the grime. Often the two met in my presence. Today, I so crave the light.
The subtle glimmers of first light
Begin their charming
Magic on the green grass where swings Lie
The ancient encasement dropped
And burdened swings slowly bow
Then rise
Yet the swing with its rose
It couldnt outmatch the light
Slashing through the trees’ bow
No soul could it charm
For even as rain drops
The lifeless swings lay.
The lifeless swings lie
To themselves, they cannot beat the sunrise
Nor the golden sunrays dripping
From the sky. The swings’ own Light -
Merely a glint of a bracelet charm
Flashing just as an arrow leaves a bow
The swings threaten to bow
For it tells itself, lie, lie, lie -
As no charm
Could get the swing to rise
Like a new arising light
I hear a leaky tap – drip
drip.
The tears of the swings. It bows
Down to demands of the light
And resolves itself to lie
Forever. With a dead rose
The swing has lost his charm
But when night comes, the swing is charming
For when the curtains of light drop
The darkness unfolds. Then swings’ glow rises
Its now that it takes its final bow
The swing creeps into where shadows of the night lie
It has found its Light.
No more charming the day, for the bowl
Of sorrow is too great too drop – the sun does not lie.
Night, the swing rises. The night, the swing lights.
The Take. A tap, a smack, a pull somewhere from deep below or up on top. The rod bends, the line stretches, the pulse quickens. The swirl at the top, the first glimpse. A routine fish or an epic memory unfolding? How nice if one can take in the beauty, the angles ‘the moment’ rather than only worry about the mechanics of it all. The water’s surface is always a changing canvas of motion. Here a beautiful disruption between shadows and light, on the edge of giving delight.
