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Tarnished Dreams


Dreams follow us down each path tread
whilst children dream of flying free
as the ceiling falls away 
to reveal blackest night and stars

other dreams tarnish in light of day
youth is vanquished and vanishes 
revealing the harshness of life's littering
dreams hidden beneath its' debris

held in the ire of those who are
envious of those who dare to dream
tethered by a thread stronger
than the spider's woven web and
devoid of a destination

yet it is the ironic situation
they intuit themselves immersed in
as they observe fragments of memory
creeping closer a breath away

delivering the ultimate realization
they too have dreams longing to wake
thirsting for a heart to beat within 
which has lain dormant too long
in youth not lost but sleeping

© December 2018 Renee Espriu

The Image Was Taken From Public Domain Pictures
 & Created as Art



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Fall’s Raven

The darkness of Fall nights without light is
like endeavoring to look through 
the blackest wing of the raven
Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures
& Created as Art
who neither hesitates nor
languishes in his pursuit
to be resplendently dressed
in his dark cloak

© November 2018 Renee Espriu

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A Bitter Embrace

The fog moving with stealth
settles in for the night
heavy & without substance

coveting each nuance of sound
even the leaves drifting
to settle upon the ground
are silent familiars

this chilling miasma still here
as morning arrives within
its’ bitter embrace

a mask covering snaking streets
alley ways and buildings
where even lamp lights
shine bleakly
dampened

a spider abandoning its’ post
leaves dew drops glistening
as jewels upon its’ web

© October 2018 Renee Espriu

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

Fall Familiar

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Flourishes & Whorls

When I first made your acquaintance
my hand wrapped ’round you
and found warmth & light

even though a tiny fragment of cedar
I minded not the lustrous feel of
your soft black carbon
within

as I grasped you time & time again
my muse trembled in anticipation
as she watched gradations of lines
forming

creating magic with loops curving
in every direction
to give life to every breath I
inhaled & exhaled

giving substance to the wind
to the very universe of which
the rotating earth is
contained

with each flourish & curve
you became as putty in my hand
as burning fuel for my muse

whereupon the light of day
merged with the dark of night
transforming sunrises
sunsets

igniting the embers in my soul
within my heart
into a flame

I have kept you close since
that crucial moment
the dawning of
a single
letter

© October 2018 Renee Espriu

Image Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

One Letter

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Second Story Longing

Life beside a warp of cement
tucked into rain soaked ground
whilst seeing grass close enough
to touch thru an open window

is not for the faint of heart
nor a feint move made in earnest
to deceive or hide

for I miss second story windows
open to light and breeze
a view of a well traversed bridge
seen as a ribbon slightly
in the distance

with wavy colors of green slicing
thru deepest aegean blue
waters as beneath they flow

as wind tunnel force winds
creating frothy waves
upon its’ surface
create lapping at
sandy rocky shores

I imagine myself there
in the sun

© October 2018 Renee Espriu

My Own Photo Taken and Created as Art

Window

 

 

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The Color of Elocution

So many introductions
to the season of Fall
from the splashy
vibrantly hued colors

of oranges, golds
yellows and reds

to burnt textures of
browns and bronze

as foliage processes death
into sleeping droughts
of winter nights

where each day temperatures
fade to cool breezes
sending all matter of life
scurrying
fluttering
down

atop objects stationary or
those moving
steadily onward

while the noise and chatter
of nature’s interlude
finds the quest
for food

in the eyes of the ever busy
squirrel who squirrels away
any nuts he can

to the ever noisy, never
complacent jay
I catch a glimpse of
high in the branches

of acorn tree boughs
apparently abundantly full
whilst he screeches
at the energetic
squirrel

always mindful these acorns
belong to him
the bountiful trees
his domain

trespassing bandits
will receive
a long and wrathful
scolding

such elocution this jay
but the squirrel
will not
be deterred

© October 2018 Renee Espriu

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures and Created as Art

Squirrel in Tree

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“The Spritely Muse”

words that tumbled ’round
her head as a child
still do

making mischief like tiny sprites
trading a wooded glade
to tease her hence

a whirlwind of cacophony
flickering, not staying still
try as she might
to pin them down

like dust these letters sneak
into every tight corner
of every room

only the rooms are within
her head with dull eyes
the corners misshapen
dark and foreboding

each letter playing tag
‘you’re it!’
as she feels a tingling
a light touch

as they frantically
try to meld again
and again

to ignite a spark
bursting brightly
into poetic imagery
brilliant

but as her head pivots
she only glimpses
she is not keen enough
as swiftly
they
disappear

© September 2018 Renee Espriu

Some Image Taken From Public Domain To Create As Art

fire sprites

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“Spinning Threads in Poems”

Spun words as a weaver spinning threads
upon her loom hoping that colors
will strike the brilliant chord

such as the composer who like magic
pulls each note threaded in the air
above him espouses
to encapsulate emotions
within the composition

whereupon they will be released
by those who listen
in tears of sorrow
tears of joy
or anger fleeting
as a doused
flame

with only the bliss
of knowing it was I
who lit the flame

that dances across
the reader’s face
as they imbue
their senses
with the words
of a poem

is all I envisage

© September 2018 Renee Espriu

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created as Art

Poems and Threads

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“Oranges and Apples”

A mother is what she needed
not a friend that played
jacks, marbles and jump rope

where she was left
to her own devices of
making mischief
with her brother

or watching a locomotive
barrel down steel tracks
to crush a penny
newly set
upon them

but her mother an only child
longed for siblings
for playmates
to fill
a yearning

so even as she needed
wanted a mother
oranges and apples
would not mix

yet her mother turned flour sacks
into underclothes and slips
for her sewn dresses
to lie upon

her mother cooked food
laden with the aromas
of love

pies trimmed in the lace
of gold brown crust
even when money
was a
luxury

she would surmise in life
that mothers do the best
with what life
gives them

© September 2018 Renee Espriu

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures and Created As Art

Oranges and Apples