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June 19, 2011June 26, 2011

Recuerdos

Strands of hair as silver threads
shining dimly in the light as
hazel eyes peruse photographs of
children, grandchildren, those
great-grandchildren looking
back with smiles frozen, another
time, other places in the past

Mi padre recuerdos en la luz del dia

Strands of hair as silver threads
shining soft as silk on ears of
corn her eyes treasured memories
held in photographs, giving back
years stolen in hands frail aged
with spots, he sees framed the
importance, a families life shared

Mi padre recuerdos en la luz del dia

June 14, 2011June 26, 2011

Hidden Meaning

Weaving a tapestry, words
hidden dimly as in various
hued amber pieces softly lit
traversing night scenes a
spector to all and to none
entering realms destined,
forbidden in the light

Laced within patterns of
meaning softly woven as a
cocoon holding a brilliant
treasure illuminated colors
phantasmagorical prisms as
sun shining splendid to
those whose eyes embrace

June 12, 2011June 26, 2011

The Package

                                              Matters not how the package
                                              arrived or how it was planted,
                                              amongst ramshackled cardboard
                                              walls or on linen sheets of a
                                              mansion, hope is within us

                                              Product of poverty, strife the
                                              result of rape and revulsion,
                                              bred of wealth and luxury but
                                              laced with perjury, existence
                                              loveless, hope is within us

                                              Matters not how the package
                                              arrived or how it was planted
                                              for leaders of others or those
                                              who build dreams from abundance
                                              all because hope is within us

June 9, 2011June 26, 2011

Wisdom

                                                                                            Inspecting each tiny flower
                                         Columbine, Dandelions,
                                         Sweet William, Gladiolas
                                         clasping delicate stems
                                         sniffing the fragrance,
                                         eyes closed, concentration
                                         everything, wise at three

This bit of prose is due to the inspiration of my grandson, Kade, who at three is at times much wiser than his grandmother. I love you, Kade.

June 7, 2011

Trying Something New

I took my cue from Trisha and I commend you as using Microsoft Paint is quite an undertaking! Couldn’t find a picture I liked so hopefully this one isn’t too bad. I’m use to my own tools as an artist so the computer is a little different, to say the least. Thank You, Trisha!

June 7, 2011June 26, 2011

Surrender

Viewing a waterfront arising
from the peak of a road
descending slowly, showing
hundreds of flags as a
surrender but not to war or
cataclysmic events but only
holding to the brilliance of
sun shining on rippling
movement of water holding
afloat sailing vessels
large, small coming to gather
paying homage to nature’s
god of the universe

June 4, 2011June 26, 2011

Sunrays

Sun filtering window
prisms transforming
rainbows creating art

June 3, 2011June 26, 2011

Desire

Tempest permeates night
Unrequited love
Passions winged flight

June 1, 2011April 17, 2013

Invisible

Sitting still cloaked in a
dewy mist covering her
body as a safety net of
tiny droplets settling on
each tiny hair, on the
lashes of her eyes

Listening intently trying to
hear sounds…of what, of
anything beyond her
soft breathing captured,
held within the mist, let
go in heart beats

Timeless memories to
tinder igniting emblazoned
parodies of countless
choices left as discarded
remnants scattered beyond
hands clasped tightly

Sitting still the mist begins
dissipating, embarking to
distant places, unknown
others, abandoning her
efforts to become invisible
within its’ embrace

This is an older post but thought to put it here for dVerse.

http://dversepoets.com/category/openlinknight/