assumption ~

Featured

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

look for me here_edited

would that you knew me
one night on the run –
out past the place fences
were strung
out past the memory
of all we’ve become –
tis a place
you knew me this way

as light
through a bonnet of cedar
and vine –
beckoning planets
the color of jade
bound us together
beyond what was lost –
tears fell a river
of rain

ribbons and lace
the burden of grace –
cigarettes burned down
the barn
dare my assumption
for all I held dear –
as near to my heart
once the stars

. . .

to make it right ~

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

The_World_Around_You__Crossed_by_pan_feylin

as long as I
this fate shall keep
beholding tears of treason
folded close an ancient
opal cross
burns me still
when gathered near –
with memory of another
a time when as a child
I saw it there
dirty golden chain
never knew
for whom it mattered
or what of crops were sold
to make it right
would beauty give of passion
one season to suspend
all was come
where only truth remains
so lovely in the evening light
near enough to heaven
he’d pull her in
she’d take him home again
one more grace
for letting go –
one more lace undone
sentimental white
in trade for
opal rose

. . .

the way love works ~

Tags

, , , , , , ,

was never my intent
to carry all this grief –
to bend beneath the load
of circumstance
hastened by the notion
my heart would never mend
would squander
every breath –
if given chance

such foolishness
I should have seen –
surely learned by now
the way love is
the way love works
to give
as we allow

but I won’t lie
I can’t pretend
there hasn’t been some pain –
learning as it were
to live again

haunted by a promise
whispered long ago
within the dark
an ember of the sun
is wrapped in sweet reminders
lest my soul forget
beyond this night –
another day will come

. . .

better than most ~

Tags

, , , , , , ,

At the recent passing of my aunt, I am reminded of all the things I love and loved about her – how she enjoyed blueberry syrup, her love for coffee, the sound of her laughter.  I also reflect on the things I’ve surely gathered from her – my backbone, my stature, my love for pepper on cantaloupe, and the way I hold my hand over my heart when something touches me.

I’m humbled in the blessing of our lives clipped together, these ‘things’ that we share (we carry, we keep).   But, I am also grateful to know about them – to know what she loved as well as how she loved.

We should want for nothing more than to have someone truly know us – what we dream, what we grieve, what we love (when the dark is night and the ground so very cold).

I am reminded of an instance some years ago. My husband and I had a pretty deep discussion about my assertion that he might not know me as well as he thought. To prove my point I asked, ‘what’s my favorite color’.

Let me say here that I’m painfully aware that I am far more observant than most people. I listen for every hint of the story. If you mention some author to me over coffee in January, don’t be surprised when you receive a signed edition for Christmas. It’s what I do, and yet, I like to think myself forgiving of those who aren’t made the same.

But I also want to believe that those who love us most should be inclined to know us better than most.

Anyway back to the story. This ‘conversation’ occurred during a time when my brother-in-law traveled quite a bit and as a result, my sister and her little ones stayed with us a few nights each week. It so happened that they arrived just as the above discussion was ending.

Cameron, her two year-old son, was beaming as he came through the door, declaring he had a present for me (sure payment for the fact that I always had one for him). His little hand was clutched tight in front of him as I knelt down, excited for sure, and asked what it might be. As he slowly uncurled his fingers, I could see that a red M&M had melted all over his hand. O wow, I said.  Then he looked straight at me (through me) and said ‘I got it for you because it’s your favorite color.’ ❤️

Even now, I’m smiling just as I did in that moment………….

I pray that I never have cantaloupe and pepper without thinking of my aunt Lillian. And when I die, God help the poor soul who dares to bury me in blue…

might that you remember
the color of my eyes –
the way my fingers
warmed against your skin
how I take my coffee
and where my weakness lies
what I love –
for who I’ll come
again

. . .

when roses bloom in winter ~

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

what of time
was ever ours
eternity to claim
when roses bloom in winter –
will one recall
our name

tis there we live
immortal beat –
for years beyond our years
a photograph
of a photograph –
as love we reappear

as blessings
where we left them be
a smile remembers when –
love was all we knew of life
– is there we touch
again

until the night
is drawn
across the memory of us
would that another
speak aloud –
a name
the same as love

. . .

Lillian Rebecca Smith George
grace in a cotton dress
1923 – 2021

when words are fell away ~

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

for wanting
there’s a price to pay
a promise I surmise –
to write again
when words are fell away
to garner loves forgiveness
for all I couldn’t say
when the nightbird came
to roost
above my bed

when the lacey lace
is torn apart –
stars forget to burn
as moonlight spills along
the eastern ridge
reminders come unbidden
to have their way at last
as punishment
for every word
unsaid

. . .

time to tell ~

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

I confess
once you knew me
not as sure you know me now
when years have passed
my story changing –
and what of love
I dreamed about

might I stay
e’er you would listen
had I words and time to tell
of paths I took
of fate diverging –
far from ways
you knew me well

dare I speak
of sorrows tasted
recall anew a broken heart
remnants of a love
imagined –
when evermore
was not that far

. . .

while you were gone –

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

grace
a sweet illusion
tender greys and blue
silver stones and no one left
to understand
our truth

hand in hand
here and there –
as one
no different we
were lessons come
from waking –
a will of destinies

I’ve wandered far
to find my way –
miles while you
were gone
and for a time
all I had –
was a memory of home

but for one
I make a vow
would not the breadth of life
conceal
when winter folds around
love will warm me
still

. . .