***Bitter Salt***

The air of life of which I breathe
comes down upon me
as soft green leaves

to beckon me my words my gift
to settle my soul bereft
as bitter salt
doth sift

through each pore each cell
within my being
crying out why
why I see

she was born perfect as
the newest of snow

she was born of my self
born of my soul

but he sought her out one day
came down upon her
has kept her nay

has kept her within each
labored breath
has made of her short life
a life long test

she endures each painful trial
he passes her through
smiling of it all
as flowers do

there is always tomorrow
a new better day
though she knows his eyes
discovers his ways

my words tell me what I should know
she was born perfect
as the purest snow

she was born of my self
born of my soul

though why he chose her
I will never know

© January 2017 Renee Espriu

File Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

purest-snow

My oldest daughter was diagnosed at the age of 23yrs with Lupus, an autoimmune disorder for which there is no cure. It took ten years to diagnose and now at the young age of forty she has once again to overcome more new diagnoses of which, all but one, are more than likely due to her Lupus. Lupus is the Latin word for wolf, which was given for a name to this disease, due to some of the ways in which it presents itself when on the skin. I have come to think of this disease as one of predator and one which my daughter has spent a lifetime in battle with. She is strong, positive and always optimistic about each day. One of the angels I always say that walks among us.

***THE MUSE & ORDER***

She learned from youth on
to mind the dust and
to always clean thus
with order in mind

for every Saturday was time
to take vacuum in hand
with dust rags plenty
to clean with a flurry

let there be no mistake
as the minutes ticked by
no particle of dust
should be left behind

so to this very day
in order to hear her muse
neatness & order will prevail
or havoc of thought pursue

if floors are not cleaned
or dishes washed to put away
her muse will not come
she will wait another day

@ June 2016
Renee Espriu

I have yet decided again to construe my own take on the Wednesday prompt at Jamie Dede’s site https://musingbymoonlight.com/ showing what it is like to be very obsessive/compulsive when it comes to keeping everything neat and in order and still try to write. It is no wonder my muse and I have a bit of a time getting together.

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

Clean and Organized

Flight Paths

roots_tree_on_Sherbourne
Google Image

creation of time
runs deep
like flight paths
too deeply settled
beneath the ground
to access

but as they work their
way to the surface
we tenderly
navigate them
holding on

in an effort to soar
to take flight
once again
bringing us
closer to the sun

like tender new
shoots of life
still waiting
awash with expectation
that a new day
will begin

© July 2013
Renee Espriu

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

Change Comes Quickly

old wooden door
Google Image

change comes quickly
sometimes
just as we knew it would
not unlike an unwanted
intruder…silently
entering
with stealth
in darkness

waiting, just waiting…
remember how
we would wait
a game of hide ‘n seek
with only the
street lamps lit
casting shadows and
you hoped it
wasn’t yours
and then

you were found out
even though
you thought you were
hidden
and we did think so
didn’t we
safe from the
trappings
of life

in our home with a
door closed to who…
to the intruders,
of course…and
to change
but with the
light of day
it all is
clear

like a mirrored
reflection
in cut crystal glasses
but not so…
really
as the crystal is
but jagged pieces
and sharp edges
juxtaposed

fitting but not so
as a piece
here and there
slips
out of view
out of our view and
what do we do
but wait and wait
or turn about
like a kaleidoscope
to view something
else…new

for the domino pieces
do begin their fall
from him to her and
on and on as
change keeps coming
putting in motion
a game of
cause and effect
an unknowing

without warning but life
has no sounding
bells
no alarms ringing
to alert us that
it is here for
change comes
quickly

© May 2013
Renee Espriu

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

Between Midnight and Dawn

phantom images between
midnight and dawn
collect in moonlit
 rooms reflecting naught
but seamless pathways
sewn within the mystery
that fades but never
really is gone until
another day doth cease
we again shall stray
in phantom images between
midnight and the dawn

© July 2012 Renee Espriu