winter’s sky holds images
winged birds in
flight fluttering
black taffeta
dotting the
horizon
black birds blend in
grey skies
amidst giant
evergreen trees
branches waving
as leafy arms
in the wind but I
remain safe and warm
cloistered within
 home as sanctuary
waiting for warmer breezes
to return along with
voices of songbirds
heralding in
spring
© February 2012
Renee Espriu
Trisha is an amazing artist who posts wonderful Haikus filled with wisdom and who has sent me encouragement from across the ocean from her country of India. If you have not visited her site please do at http://sharmishthabasu.wordpress.com  She painted this beautiful image for me thanking me for my writing and comments and I am only too happy to share it here with all of you who visit.
Again please visit my friend Trisha at http://sharmishthabasu.wordpress.com
I was reminded that today is Charles Dicken’s 200th birthday so thought to post one of his quotes. This is one of my favorite authors.
“An idea, like a ghost … must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself.”
Charles Dickens 1812 – 1870.
Reminiscent of a
time when inkwells
held secrets of
auspicious authors
when they dipped
their quills
inside and with
a flourish of
script containing
dots and crosses
left their legacy
to span time
connecting their
hearts and souls to
ours
© February 2012
Renee Espriu
Inkwell
An inkwell is a small jar or container, often made of glass, porcelain, silver, brass, or pewter, used for holding ink in a place convenient for the person who is writing. The artist or writer dips the brush, quill, or dip pen into the inkwell as needed or uses the inkwell as the source for filling the reservoir of a fountain pen
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This post is for Yellow Mellow Monday, a site I have seen on Becca’s site that she connects to and I find I do as well. Find them at http://mellowyellowmonday.blogspot.com
Yellow roses remind          
me of another place
another time when
promises seemed to
only require the
saying of “I do”
© February 2012
Renee Espriu
Travertine images
carved with features
etched lovingly in
musical sweetness
guarded by a
treble clef                                           
a song melodious
as an Angel choir
the day dusk as
barely candle lit
the flame wavers
we all walk
the path of our
memories knowing
we are never
alone in our
twilight hours as
solace is found
in travertine
images
© February 2012
Renee Espriu
Flood waters have
subsided
irrelevant of the
time and space
left between
as differentially
notations are jotted
down in betwixt
margins
in my mind
filtered down
amongst
darkened hallways
secreted away in
shadows hiding you
from me erudite
of those times
when bewildered by
your bravery
I would glance
skyward and finding
you there was
filled with wonder
you extend your arms
to me laughing
exposing a
reality
your revelation
 but my ephihany of
living fearless as
you enfold me
warmly melting
away all
sorrow
in invitation to
your treetop canopy
where the waters
have left you
I contemplate if
this is a dream…or
something
much more
© February 2012
Renee Espriu
I dreamt of my oldest daughter who has Lupus and is presently not doing very well, a surgery pending and perhaps another…we aren’t sure…and felt it had to be written down.
reneejustturtleflight.com 