Sunlight streaming through the window The curtains fluttering in gentle breeze Scented sheets scattered around the desk Me, seated with my feet aloft my chair Pen in mouth, mind lost in thought A faraway look in my eye.
A letter I must write Round up the lurking moods Trap the escaping words Sieve out the wayward feelings Arrange them this way and that Breathe life into a thought
Pen meets paper One word then the next My thoughts come alive Reams of pages filled with words I see my past laid to rest As the ink on these sheets dry
The words once written Cannot cease to be No ambiguity allowed Between the words scribbled free Truth they are now Of my living reality
I come from a place of much fear and yearning. Yearing for that little extra that life has to offer which is just within our reach and fear that when faced with that yearning well withing my grasp will I ever have the courage to face up to it.Words have always been a way to make sense of the jumble within, it brings me clarity and makes things a reality. Nothing reflects me better than these words below.I stand watching the waves crash against the shore, leave back some things on the beach and take some things away with it. On and on tirelesslyit goes. "Stop it, stop it now!".But no one is listening. "Don’t take so much away, I'll have nothing left." The sea calls out, "But I’m leaving so many things back." Angry tears spilling over my cheeks I yell, "I don’t want what you have to give, I’m happy with what I have. Take away your so called gifts leave me back with what I had. Give me all that you took away from me, return what you had no right to take." The sea replies, "Not unless you see what I have left you". Strolling along the shore I find the mysteries of worlds far away at my feet, all within my reach. Think to myself I do, can I be mad for the old things been taken away from me when what I have always secretly hoped for is to have the mysteries of the world at my feet. I hear the gentle voice againm "Do you still want me to take it away?". "NO! NO!", escapes before I can control my words. The sea replies "That's what I thought". The sea drenches my feet and moves away digging my feet deeper into the sand.........
His memory brims my eyes The fuzziness engulfs me Jams my mind A rising dull ache The longing to feel him Connected and close By words by presence by voice In a lame chatter In nothing that is matter Behind
your voice across the wire says ‘a new situation’s developed while you’ve been away…’ when we first made love you wrote poems about crocuses, spring and new beginnings now autumn’s come so hard your voice across the wire says ‘a
Mom’s the word…A BIRTHDAY TRIBUTE She was the eighth child out of the ten born to the high-profile session judge couple; She spent her childhood amidst her siblings in a traditional orthodox environment with an aristocrat touch in her lifestyle.