White Outside My Window

White outside my window
speaks of winter not yet done
of Jack frost peering
through curtained panes
as I peer back alone

a snow as blinding a sunny day
drifts ’round the curtains
of my bedroom dark
a light to give
the shadows life
in stillness
of the night

as teetering on the periphery
Spring flowers are in bud
hidden beneath the clouds
in pale of stillness
they doth pose
in silent breath

within the white
outside my window

© February 2019 Renee Espriu

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

Outside Window

Second Story Longing

Life beside a warp of cement
tucked into rain soaked ground
whilst seeing grass close enough
to touch thru an open window

is not for the faint of heart
nor a feint move made in earnest
to deceive or hide

for I miss second story windows
open to light and breeze
a view of a well traversed bridge
seen as a ribbon slightly
in the distance

with wavy colors of green slicing
thru deepest aegean blue
waters as beneath they flow

as wind tunnel force winds
creating frothy waves
upon its’ surface
create lapping at
sandy rocky shores

I imagine myself there
in the sun

© October 2018 Renee Espriu

My Own Photo Taken and Created as Art

Window

 

 

Rainbow Laced Muses

dreams are like the sweet smell
of ambrosia
not like
the bitter of coffee
before her

she sits by the restaurant window

staring at nothing

and seeing everything

perhaps she sees her life
without children
running about
demanding
time

time she doesn’t have and
does not have to give
for life should chord

space and quiet

life should be filled

with writing muses
laced with rainbows

filled with artist
paper

& tools for both
housed in a place

beneath
trees

sprinkled with star dust

a place with fields of
wild flowers so
she can commune

with nature
with her
soul

she is lost in her thoughts
as the restaurant
comes to life
around her

with the laughter of

children

playing

she is reminded that life
hinges on choices
of ambivalence

like her food
turning cold
it is only
new

within the essence
of the moment

© September 2017 Renee Espriu

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday Prompt. Read more at
https://jamiededes.com/2017/09/13/hes-a-tumble-weed-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from Morgue File & digitally altered.

Sweet Ambrosia

 

An Angel Waiting

I lay restlessly, upon the sheets of my bed, now soaked with perspiration. I tried in vain to sleep but drifted in and out of what I came to believe were the realities of my night.

I could see you there as real as though you were standing by my bed. “You are my comfort”, I told you. “You are my angel”. You give me your strength night after long night and even though you fade with the morning light, I know you will come to me again.

The window though closed seemed to be open and the leaves of the tree outside drifted inside. They fell to the floor to accumulate like a soft carpet and fell atop my pillow by my head. Each night these were my realities. I called to you and you came as though no walls could hinder your presence by my bed.

Beacon of darkest night
Portent of life
Guardian of my soul

You could have been a dream but each night you returned when I called. Who is to say what is real.

© July 2017 Renee Espriu

I quickly took out my watercolors and acrylics to create something to go with this newest post. I had been thinking of this image and so rather than ponder it too much, which I have a tendancy to do, I painted what it was my mind saw.

Dream (2)