Tiny droplets of water      
like fragile glass beads
settling on blades of
grass pure life giving
sustaining a future
© January 2012
Renee Espriu
This is my submission for January 9, 2012 Small Stones on Writing Our Way Home at http://writingourwayhome.ning.com
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
Words fragrant with meaning, layered
edges sometimes jagged enough to cut
leaving wounds behind nearly visible
edges sometimes smooth as glass open
to reveal emotions wrought infinite
Fall leaves piled in driveways and
gutters smelling of mildew and the
mustiness found in old homes years
neglected left with windows shuttered
leaving stories behind collected, untold
Dried flowers still hanging upside down
pressed inside the pages of a forgotten
book with the scent of roses given from
a beau timeless or a casket life ending
riding waves of memories love and loss
Candles burning the aroma of vanilla in
baked goods a reminder of families in
celebration of holidays or the acrid
odor of sulphur the match blown out and
the candle snuffed ending another era
© October 2011 Renee Espriu
Imagine airwaves filled with energy
amazing light the aura of a rainbow
imagine dreams coming true and a
 destiny fulfilled pure as creation
you have imagined ‘Angels Incoming’
Imagine all this energy holding the
radiance of calm and healing to be
with a sick child in a hospital room
holding the hand of grieving parents
you have imagined ‘Angels Incoming’
Imagine hope given freely and comfort
to those in poverty barely living and
those walking the streets without any
home to go to, wrapped warm and fed
you have imagined ‘Angels Incoming’
Imagine peace amongst warring nations
with people held in the grip of pain
death surrounding them and threatening
to take them walking heads held proud
you have imagined ‘Angels Incoming’
Imagine lands with disease caused by
 catastrophic storms where hope seems to
abandon and no future seems left open
now rebuilding, surviving, planning
you have imagined ‘Angels Incoming’
Imagine airwaves filled with energy
amazing light the aura of a rainbow
imagine dreams coming true and a
 destiny fulfilled pure as creation
you have imagined ‘Angels Incoming’
© October 2011 Renee Espriu
My oldest daughter has struggled so with her Lupus and continues to rise above when others would have long given up and my youngest daughter somehow is still here after being in an accident that could have taken her life or worse and she is still here and well. Sometimes it is difficult to Not Believe that there is something more, something beyond all comprehension. I, for one, believe in the possibility.
Spirit of Wind
breathe life
a soul unfettered
© September 2011
Renee Espriu
Artistry tattooed beneath my
skin creating a world unknown
unseen is a life portrayed in
dimensional sleds pulling my
alter ego of silvery threads
my skin a canvas of shadows
forming pieces of me creating
illusions of the deepest depths
swirling seas transforming
© September 2011 Renee Espriu
Who is a person, really, beneath the surface? Do we simply look at the outside or intuit the beauty of the inside. A person is layers upon layers and to really be able to know someone look beyond and beneath the outside. There is much to the saying, “Do not judge a book by its’ cover.”
The artist in you illuminates life
colors the canvas of whatever kind
chosen with images that swirl from
pen, pencil or brush filled with
passion and creativity a gift no
one can take because it is your own
© July 2011 Renee Espriu
I am blessed with three sons and one a fine artist. He has enriched many lives, including my own. Thank you Nathan.
Life beckons perpetrating innocence
unaware of unknown substances
coursing through veins imitating
blood in the guise of ink, of lead,
breathing life into that emptiness
now flowing as meaningful a a
river swift, unrelenting as the
heart pounding in her chest,
giving rise to words of beauty,
some profound, all with passion as
poured out onto paper with artistry
becoming life and all
else is but whispers in
the wind
                                        © June 2011 Renee Espriu
The heavens crying tears of grief displaying
emotions of thousands who traveled here,
spectators craving like vultures to see the torture,
cruelty of the execution of innocent men, though
one man is the star attraction, this man speaking
heresy to some, truth to others
The skies light up with sudden strikes of lightning
illuminating the ground on which planted they are
like trees without branches except arms, legs
lacking the green of leaves save the crown of thorns
on one, without the sap that runs albeit the blood
through different veins uprooted
The day turned night darkest, no sun shining,
the wind carrying the weeping of a few women closest
not able to believe nor understand that life would come
again to all when the tomb, stone rolled away, they
would witness no body within and carry away with
them the joyous news there is life
© April 2011 Renee Espriu
Walking the streets with shuffling
footsteps carrying all she owns
not mindful of people staring
not caring that life stole
family, a life, a home
Sitting on a bench back bending
eyes closed in the noon day sun
faceless among passersby
resembling a live statue
created by all and none
Sleeping by the wall of a bus stop
disappearing in layers of clothes
all that she has in the world
now she is nameless alone
living a life not chosen
© April 2011 Renee Espriu
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