On the sultry summer night

summer_night_forest_1920x1200
Walking felt like gliding
Wind sweeping slowly through my hair
Carrying the heady scent of roses

Only a sliver of moon shone
Lighting the way
On the long forgotten path

Hedgerows hid the night fairies
Stars held lovers’ secrets
I only had to walk to you to make it all true

We’d laugh at the stories
Sing to the sweet night music
Dance to the wind

I must be getting close
My heart is gaining a staccato beat
While my breath is just out of reach

Will it always be like this
My thoughts scattered to other planes
When I think of you

There is the glow of home
Just ahead and I am so full
With warm thoughts on this summer night

2

Basically

20130831-202647.jpg

Studying the curve of her face, following each lock of hair as it brushed her shoulder, he sat quietly and listened.

Learning the patterns of crinkles his eyes made as he smiled, glancing at his strong hand as it rested on the table, she savored a captive audience.

They were made for each other, but didn’t seem to know it. Without instructions, they were a bit lost. With all that’s properly acceptable in the world requiring manuals, people were forgetting how to act upon instinct.

Scent. Flavor. Touch.

The eyes can only behold a modicum of information. What these people need is a firm push out of their heads.

As if shaken from a daydream, she finished her story and smiled. He returned her smile and took her hand. They sat quietly, listening to their hearts.

2

Stuck in Yesterday

20130831-125058.jpg

it’s tomorrow where you are
I’m stuck in yesterday
like a scratched recording
you keep coming back
haunting my daydreams
bending my insides like warped boards pulled from the old barn

my view is of mottled cobwebs
the song I hear is a dirge of loons
my face is etched with lines of turmoil
the words linger like a wine stain

if there is a today
I’m too listless to fix anything
so I lie amid wreckage
while you dally with the latch at the gate
letting in both invited and intruded ones
the sweet minstrels
and the vultures that would bite their tongues

being stuck in this place with others like you
still feels vacant sometimes
when I realize it’s all tempting
but it’s not real

0

Forgotten

20130831-095709.jpg

sluggishly coming around
curled up in the corner
by the cold hearth
forgotten
a spider resting on its masterpiece
eyes me speculatively
the only company I have
while the happy sounds of others
seep in from outside the window

I don’t want to move
to have to face the day
when this dusty corner has become home
cold, hard
like my stomach feels
when I think about donning a smile
pretending
swallowing pride
as others swallow me whole

time sweeps over me
I can tell from the sun’s rays
oscillating in the window

opening crusty eyes
hoping for a new world
the spider has gone
the web beckons
I want to feel any embrace
but I can’t reach out

the hearth remains cold
even as night descends
the others have come and gone
unseeing
I lie almost unfeeling
forgotten

2

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑