you’re the page
i imagined
paper i loved
spread cross the table
to the edge
of my cup
fingers bleeding
and clutched
caught in a prayer
about longing
and a way to make love
without touching
. . .
the page i imagined ~
18 Friday Nov 2022
Tag Archives: longing
how the curtains fell ~
20 Wednesday Jul 2022
Tags
days between, endearing, gifts, life, longing, love, remembrance, time
sunrise burns
beyond the steeple spire
melting every doubt
I’ve held between
the moment
you were taken back
breath you stole away
e’en now my hands
deny the warmth
you gifted me
that day
words no longer
flatter
poison for my tongue
yet still I taste
your name upon my lips
a prayer
I’ve not forsaken
a sigh
repeated sweet
pressed within the memory
of evermore
a kiss
do you remember
how the curtains fell
to let the starlight in
. . .
pray me down ~
28 Tuesday Jun 2022
dream
and I will find you here
sleeping in my bed
wrapped in light
wherever longing sits
stay the night
pray me down –
sighs are all I need
to make me yours
would prove your heart
a thief
gather me
wildflowers –
write to me
in stone
speak as if you never
meant to go
burden me a future
a fate we dared believe
sail me home
on waves I cannot see
. . .
remember me this way ~
03 Friday Jun 2022
when i have gone
and save for one remembered
a failing light
one fragile night
alignment just like this
fates resigned
roads erased
and not a map was made
would bring me back
the way
that you remember
me
this way
when evening slips
to twilight
there your laughter sleeps
cupped within the timbers
ancient evergreens
i will wait
the nightbird’s singing
until the morning dawns
when dew has fallen
quiet
to the place
where i have gone
. . .
perfumes ~
13 Saturday Nov 2021
Tags
life, longing, love, memory, remains of another day, seasons, time, truth, what we keep
how far
from Spring to wander
I can scarce
recall perfumes –
wafts of honeysuckle
sacred vine
days beneath the sun
echoes of another
spilled into
a morning
just as this
boughs already emptied
tho memory persists
wherever now our secrets
fill the wind
. . .
for graces to grieve ~
30 Monday Aug 2021
were living
made heavy
by times we let pass
days we forgot
for graces to grieve
were love
but a memory
carved to our soul
a place
we remembered
to be
gathered
to story
the weight of our years
moments deeper
than skin
were longing
the measure by which
we remain
a name
breathed in silence
amen
. . .
unguarded ~
25 Wednesday Aug 2021
in the blush
before twilight falls
on stars I know by name
tis there
a sigh unguarded
you remain
in light
before the sun arrives
to sit
atop my barn
in breezes come
a whisper
through the pines
tis there
amid the places –
I’ve decided
I can bear
souvenirs of all
I thought
to love
with breath
before dreams return
as shadows
shape the night –
as story
not yet told
you remain
. . .
beneath a sigh ~
05 Monday Jul 2021
who shall mourn
the poet –
when poetry relents
the reader since
forgotten how to feel
who shall know
what loss is penned
just beneath a sigh
how many lovers grieved
for time to heal
who shall tell
the children
of magic left to make –
where the proof was found
and who remains
who shall man the tower
as witness offered up –
a parting kiss
reminding us
the first we knew
to love
. . .
muscadine and flame ~
24 Thursday Jun 2021
Posted in Poetry, spirituality
Tags
courage, familiar, home, kiss, life, longing, love, memory, mystery, nature, soul, spirit, truth
were that I
a solemn prayer
a bumble bee or wasp
the smile to break apart
against your sigh
ancient recognition
warmth exceeding warmth
a feeble cry
braced against the night
were that I
the best of times
the truth in all you know
a tattoo of my need
to match your own
every kiss
the taste of me
muscadine and flame
rivers
cold and reckless
remember me
the same
. . .
habits ~
07 Monday Jun 2021
Posted in Poetry, Storytelling, verse
years have gone
yet still I worry –
restless comes
when nights are cold
habits cling
as proof of something
strong enough
my heart
to slow
life is changed
and for a season –
shadows shift
to block the sun
planets drift beyond
my reaching –
as longing waits
the end
for none
who shall know
of living wasted –
of mercies left
with time
to spend
remnants
from another
mother –
when love was chance
to love again
. . .
tornadoday 