A Glimmer of Light

Leaving behind a passion of heart
in words left unwritten
words fading as ghostly images
when pen is not put to paper
when inspiration is set aside

always fearing unfounded criticism
of those you will never know
those never to breach your life

always choosing moral acceptance
rather than acceptance of self
acceptance of gifts setting idle
as dust settles upon them
as motes floating in air

ignoring a brilliance of light
that follows you in footsteps
as you close each door approached

a glimmering light shining
beneath its sill
until there is nought
but a darkening foreboding
becoming as tarnished silver
that no longer gleams

& only echoes fallacy of choices
that leaves voids want of filling
giving no purpose of self
as only seeking light will do
and in opening doors

© February 2019 Renee Espriu

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

Brilliance of Light

Magic and a Mystery

The rusted tool chest on wheels now
a silent reminder of childhood wonder
when in mystery it did appear as

the night spread before us and sleep
a distant presence wrapped
in the excitement of holiday magic

we were sent to bed you and I
to await the morning’s sunrise
but I was vigilant and
so were you

as I listened to laughter seeping
beneath the door I smelled the
familiar scent of cigarette smoke
unfurling

from the neighbor who often was seen
visiting but it was late at night….and

I knew something or someone was about
as I saw you quietly push the door
to opening

I wanted to know if the gossip was true
that there was no Santa or St Nicholas
who would magically appear for
wishes come true

as we peeked carefully into the living room
it was mother who busied herself there
with the wonder of
holiday gifts
and fare

a shiny red tool box on wheels she moved
beside the tree as she smiled
with care

© October 2017 Renee Espriu

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday Writing Prompt. Read more at https://jamiededes.com/2017/10/18/the-scent-of-maamoul-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue File and digitally altered by myself.

Mystery of Magic

 

******Gifts They Brought Me*******

pussy willows fallen from
the pussy will tree
dandelions plucked
with small hands freed
no longer unwanted
the gifts they brought me

faces stained with hints
of blackberry juice
smiles shining, wide eyes
from a berry picking sleuth
containers nearly emptied
the gifts they brought me

stories written about family
clay ash trays, a mobile too
a card on mother’s day
the sound of music playing
to fill my heart & soul
the gifts they brought me

even the laughter & tears
the many unsaid hopes & fears
days filled with moments
none of them ever dull
& the best thing brought me
the gift of themselves

© January 2014
Renee Espriu

pussy willows

Image Taken From http://morguefile.com

My children and grandchildren are a huge part of my life and without them there would be a huge gap, a hole to large to ever fill. There have been joys and sorrows and challenges throughout the years but I would never trade any of it for the experiences I have shared with them have shaped my life and the person I am.

Heart Gifts

I have accepted the nomination for the award from Poets Rally Week #58 and link my site https://reneejustturtleflight.wordpress.com and nominate Mindsinger who participated as well for Week #59. http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com

 
Scent of pine hanging                                      
fragrant in the air a
reminder in finding
gifts of the heart a
love to encompass all
who cross our paths
with spirits yearning
a New Year to start

© December 2011 Renee Espriu

Life’s Syncopation

Syncopation like a child’s feet
keeping in time without
ever questioning to a
teacher’s beat

Like ants always marching
like tiny soldiers
roaming over hills and
stones and bolders

Like the tap, tap, tapping of
computer keyboards
within the cubicle walls
behind office doors

Like raindrops beating against
window panes in an
effort to gain entry
into your domain

Like the heart beating within
a lover’s chest to reveal
passion enclosed as a
birded nest

Like the pendulum swinging
while the pianist plays
ringing clear as church
bells on a rope sways

Like nature’s cycles bringing
gifts of seasons always
changing without reason it is
about Syncopation

© November 2011 Renee Espriu