Photo Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself
This is for 30doh hosted by Rick Daddario. See his site http://rickdaddario.com/blog/ for more information if you are interested to join in.
**SLIVERS OF YELLOW**
I was thinking of another time some years ago when I lived in Daly City just outside of San Francisco and drove to work in part on the coast highway. I worked in San Francisco a brief time but have some good memories.
The morning bereft of color
mist defying gravity
horizon an eerie miasma
begins slowly lifting
blue sky curtain unfurling
as I traverse down Highway 1
past multi colored stuccoes
towering green pines reveling
shot through with slivers
of brilliant sun rays yellow
dancing on a topaz colored hood
as I leisurely drive to work
in my four door sedan ride
past shell littered beaches
covered with gulls grey white
the waves of the seething ocean
craftily sewn seamlessly
midnight blues and pthalo green
topped with foamy white brew
a quilted blanket for the sea
© July 2016 Renee Espriu
Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself
*COUNTING LIFE IN TOMORROWS*
No longer do I count life in years holding dreams
of newness of a younger love when each day
spilled over in the smell of scented flowers
when the air after the rain fell spoke
of clean, sweet beginnings and new meanings
I now count life in tomorrows obliged of sun
with nights counting blankets of stars
where they meet at dawn and part company
knowing there cannot be one without another
No, I no longer count life in years that promise
with the energy of youth who cannot wait for
hours nor even minutes as they peer at clocks
eager anticipation of the next moment
and the next and the next never knowing
That the time comes when tomorrows will become
as cocoons breaking open to free butterflies
the warmth of the sun as welcome as the rain
and the night a time of dreamt memories
Now I count life in every tomorrow promising
that there is another day in sun or rain
with nights in the company of radiant stars
with hope in becoming as butterflies
regaling in the nectar of scented flowers
© July 2016
Renee Espriu
Image Taken From The Morgue File & Digitized by Myself
***PINIONED WINGS***
She does not know if she will ever fly
or be like the bird long pinioned
whose wings no longer give her flight
but keeps the world beyond her reach
like raindrops on the window pane
Will she be the lady tied fast with ropes
to the bow of the sailing ship
to briefly raise her upturned arms
and reach beyond the waves
to touch the horizon’s slip
Can she be free of her pinioned wings
and be feathered of color once more
in the childlike quest to reach and dream
will she ever fly to distant shores
Or will she drown in the expanse
of salt licked foam brine
and find no purchase to hold her
Until her wings are pinioned no more
and she spreads her arms again
to once more find her soul can soar
removed of all its’ fetters
She will ride sun rays and moon beams
threaded brilliant with tiny stars
in the sky she can thus be with them
for it will only then be true
she will know she can surely fly
© June 2016
Renee Espriu
Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself
***DO YOU HEAR THE ANGELS CRYING***
Even if a million tomorrows come and go
as sun shining brightly we still will know
of the anger fueled by hatred replacing
blood running in some men’s veins
do you hear the angels crying
do you really, do you know
When the sun rises in the morning sky
scorching dry the blood left running
that seeped into the nightclub floor
into the walls and into the doors
will you hear the angels crying
do you really, do you know
There doesn’t have to be more killing
chilling headlines repeated in the news
of children dead in classrooms who
could have lived to change some views
do you hear the angels crying
do you really, do you know
Each time a trigger is pulled on a gun
mothers & fathers cry out their anguish
as do others left alone to languish
brothers, sisters, sons and daughters
will you hear the angels crying
do you really , do you know
Whether it is in a darkly lit theater
or on a dimly lit nightclub dance floor
college campus or elementary school room
they all breathed last where we found them
do you hear the angels crying
do you really, do you know
© June 2016
Renee Espriu
Image is Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself
How many people have to die in senseless wars, in mass killings before the human race decides to quell their fears founded in ignorance and make decisions based on being informed. There are those factions around the world who encourage fear and that fear is the fuel for hatred of things not understood. Each person should have the freedom to whatever religion they choose be it different from another. Each person, no matter the lifestyle lived or disability they may have, should be able to live without fear of those others whose fear comes from the hatred that has been fueled by some few, who themselves, fear what they do not understand.
I have many Gay friends who have enriched my life with their presence in it. This post is for them and for those in Florida who suffered the loss of sons, brothers, husbands or friends. They were all loved and cared about and will be missed as will all that were enjoying their company and also lost their lives, a mother, a sister, friends.
Let me clarify that this is not only about one group of people in our society, in societies around the world. This is about all people in all walks of life. I am a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, have had the opportunity in the past (some might never have) of attending college. My own children and their children have all attended public schools and some college. We all enjoy going to places in the public sector where people gather. Any of these people, both children and adults, could have been mine or yours.
This is also not about religious beliefs for the people of Islam do not believe nor condone violence. This is about one man’s anger and dislike for others and his fear of something he did not understand. It is unfortunate that the law still allows individuals to purchase automatic weapons, which are weapons of war, and until a law is passed that makes them illegal to obtain more of these situations will occur. Of course, there will always be those who will come by them illegally but at least it would make it more difficult for any one individual to act upon his/her anger.
I am a writer and have not been one to jump on any platform but this incident touched me to the core of my being as a human being. If nothing else, I have felt compelled to write something, which I hope will be of value to some.
*****Bring Me Wildflowers*****
bring me wildflowers
& set them
on the sideboard
by the window
to catch
the suns’ rays
for the petals
that dapple all
of the surfaces
like tiny pixies
set to play
bring me laughter
to eclipse the day
as the moon does
to the surfaces
of the sun
a smile to soften
the harsh edges
of all anger
a candle with which
to light the dawn
© August 2014
Renee Espriu
Image Taken From Morgue File
Digitized by Myself
 
******Dissolving Pearls******
adrift on the tide of time
ebbing and receding quickly now
dissolving pearls seen
as minutes of time
becoming particles of sand
an hourglass known
to be tailored to each one
recognition briefly still here
the brightness of a smile
a twinkle in the eye
checking memories each one
to know they do remain
a lucky penny catches the eye
it is quickly snatched up
deposited in a pocket
a mockingbird song entertains
sun up to sun down
each note a suggestion…
of something
the sadness finally dissipated
as a rain now a fine mist
settling but only briefly
the sun always bringing
a warmth to the soul
a new day beginning
looking around for the familiar
knowing it is there
just beneath a hazy morning
burning off in the heat of day
where all is now clear
the years only an illusion
and youth just beginning
© June 2014 Renee Espriu
Visiting dad always has the variable of “what if” involved. Now at 90 plus years of age and due to mild to moderate dementia, dad has good days and not so good, and through it all he still perseveres and manages to get through every day no matter what.
Image Taken From Morgue File
*****To Welcome Morn*****
when the thick grey mist
rises up from
the still dark blue water
as mirrored glass
to greet the dawn
there is no doubt
once the sun’s rays
burn away
the damp & dark
of passing night
bird chorus
will welcome morn
© April 2014
Renee Espriu
Image From Morgue File
******The Touch of Laughter******
tumultuous came the winter
undecided it made its’ retreat
the sun hidden in grey dark corners
such as the time you left me
you tried to return to my side
sitting within breath so shallow
your warmth cooled as by glacier snow
solidity of form now but shadow
my ear touched upon your laughter
a cool breeze then touched my skin
you would be with me as always
to hold as part of my heart within
© March 2014
Renee Espriu
Image Taken From Morgue File
My brother died many years ago now but the one thing that has never left me is the sound of his laughter. I cannot say how but I remember the sound of it as though it were yesterday and he is sharing that part of himself with me.
*****The Winter Night Sky*****
the stars in the winter night sky
cast shadows
across the rose garden
trembling unseen
beneath their thorny stems
waiting for the warmth of sun
to bring forth budding faces
reminding me of you
© January 2014
Renee Espriu
Image Taken From The Morgue File
by Karpati Gabor
My mom went now, six years ago on January the 17th, to be with all those she loved and who went before. I certainly believe she is one of the angels now and watches over all who remain. I will never forget you mom. The red rose was her favorite.
reneejustturtleflight.com 