Tags
bliss, connection, destiny, faith, farm, fearless, grace, life, love, old maps, passion, reason, restless, soul signature, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom
long the days
were dread to nights
and hid beneath the secrets
of times we were together
trusting fate
to intervene
as planks along
the leaning barn –
broken lights and lunas
quiet as a mist
above the pond –
trusted as the early chill
wrote upon the window –
signed our names
so sure the spring
would find us
after all
the failing bliss
of Christmas morn
to hold us down
to treasure –
as auld langsyne replayed
and played again
no more the need
to hurry –
lest our essence
be consumed –
as petals lost to weeds
along the way
would ever I be missed
to every moment I endured
or rusted by my hands
upon the plow
faded now the cowboy
that lived within my curtains
with tales
that served to prove
was here I loved
long the days
we fell into –
the wish for one more
season –
locked beneath the secrets
concealed by yesterday
tornadoday 
And they rode off into the sunset and lived happily ever after…
Light but serious, fun without being frivilous, and overall pleasing. I liked the softness of it.
xo, and good night,
Paul
Thank you, dearest Paul. ~ xoxo and goodnight, B
I love this, Bobbie, because it depicts our humanity, our weaknesses, our small little failures, but in the end, it is love that hopes and believes for the springtime, and the coming back to what made us love in the first place.
Indeed…….. It is the sweet awareness of the universe that proves our connection to everything. There are nights when I wake to the sounds of a train screaming through the stillness, while somewhere else, nightbirds yell from the trees. A storm races in as a locust dances out directions, a windshield shatters. Somewhere a mother braids her daughter’s golden locks, a lover sighs, a knitter binds off the edge of a sleeve. A cashier pours new dimes into an outstretched hand, plates in the earth shift and settle, as falcons fall from the sky. Dreams are real and time is a lie, for surely it cannot be measured when one moment can expand to hold an entire universe ~ to hold eternity. What keeps us here, really? A thread that breaks with the slightest breeze, and yet a thread that cannot be broken. Thank you, Dee for understanding the wonderful (simple sweet) miracle that surrounds us. ~ Much love always, Bobbie
there is nothing more intimate and sensuous
than wandering through memories of dreams
reaching out to touch what was,
what will be forever in our soul to pull from the past
to remember the touch of love
Beautiful as always Bobbie…
)0(
love to you
maryrose
Dearest Maryrose, wherever you find my words, I hope they are always a reminder of love that needs not presence to be. Thank you, darlin. All my love to you, Bobbie
We are all a part of each other, the same feelings embrace our hearts and minds, the same heartache touches us in different moments when we are alone, the same peace embraces us when happiness give us a blessing as we rise to life each morning. So we feel the life in words that sing to our hears with their wonderful passion! When a writer stops writing that is when sadness enters into my spirit…for then i miss the relationship with their words…missing their embrace. And just like a sweet memory something will always trigger their loving rise again. because our words are our breaths, and they will be here long after we are gone, and on some rainy or lonely day, they will stimulate another. Beautifully written in a very special way! Loved your poem!
What a lovely way to describe it, Wendell. Indeed, our words are our legacy ~ a legacy of love. Thank you. ~ Always with love, Bobbie
I loved this one especially. I fully enjoyed the images and details of the “story” knowing that you are always speaking of something deeper as well. I think that it is “we” that rise again, just as you spoke in your comment so eloquently yesterday. Beautiful! All my love to you, Linda
Yes, we do, lovely Linda. As I remind my students from time to time, ‘one of the great things about life is that every day, we get the chance to start all over’……….. Truly, it’s as simple as saying ‘yes’…….. Thank you, Linda. I love you so, Bobbie
A poem about losing some battles but winning the war.
……..or at least having the sense to walk away…….. ❤ Thank you, Seb. Truly, you humble me. ~ Love, B