Faded Color & Brilliance

The horizon is a dismal gray
air polluted with the finest
of ashy particles
blown by the wind
many thousands of miles
from fires on the coast
announcing the arrival
of fire season

momentarily I make a note
as I sit in a friend’s garden
with paints & brushes
ready to create color

my eye is drawn to weathered
metal sculptures that eventually
might appear to fade
into such a sky as now

but when my canvas is complete
it will portray a creature
that can blend & disappear
if it chooses to engage
in such transformative
ventures

but within my brush strokes
I color him brilliant
erasing years of rust
& faded paint

he makes me smile inside & out
so I temporarily forget
the horizon before me
for the air will again clear
& I will move forward
once more

© September 2020 Renee Espriu

The Art Below Is My Own

***The Star Second To The Right***

In a time primordial when first life began
unimaginative of the harsh realities of wars
when sunrises and sunsets were ethereal
she can only imagine stepping into dreams
of discovering an unblemished world of those
dreams made of translucent skies so that
much like Peter all she has to do is to go
to the star second to the right and straight
on till morning or perhaps like Alice she
should eat but a small bit of cake to become
just the right size to enter the garden
there upon discovering a different world
for in seeing forever is the powerful force
where oceans teeming with life are no longer
a graveyard of war ships but only coral reefs
a delightful dance of colors and creatures
and where gardens floral are wondrous delights
for children playing for hate is not a word
so cannot invade her dreams that will always
be pristine as newly fallen snow in Winter
with skies so clear she can revel to see them all
from anywhere to blissfully fly to the star second
to the right and straight on till morning

© June 2017 Renee Espriu

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday prompt. You can read more of other poet’s responses at https://jamiededes.com/2017/06/21/the-hawk-has-flown-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue File and digitized by myself.

Second Star

Digging In My Garden

large shovel
Google Image

his heart beats strong now
within his small chest
a babe newly born could
hardly find a breath

his clear blue eyes show
a window to his soul
blond hair & dimpled chin
he’s such a dapper fellow

came to dig in my garden
right along his dad’s side
a shovel bigger than he is
accomplishment & pride

even though the work was hard
never was there a complaint
he only asked his mom this
‘how much do kids make?’

© July 2013
Renee Espriu

My seven year old grandson can work hard just like his dad in my garden but he’s smart, this one, as he knows there is a bit of money to be had? Just loved it when he asked. Here’s to you, Wyatt!

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

Rose Trellis

Rose Garden Trellis
Google Image

age creeps slowly
like wild roses
on the
garden trellis

thorns heedless
to her touch
while walking
through
the summer garden

she remembers the
veil of lace she wore
at someone else’s
wedding?

in a gown of satin
with seed pearls
sewn on her
mud stained
train
vows now broken

remembers now as she
touches her skin
a face
now marked ‘aged’
& when memory lifts
the wedding veil

her youth radiates
still soft as the
rose petals
on the
garden trellis

© July 2013
Renee Espriu

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

Blanket of Fog

Tiny droplets
condensed moisture
hanging thickly
atop houses
trees, gardens
enveloping all life
a chilling mantle
buffer against
all sensation alas
only the sound is
heard of heartbeats
soft breathing
hushed ‘neath warm
cozy blankets

© December 2011 Renee Espriu