Laced emotion (Prose)

held together ornate lace
an indefinable weave, delicate stitches
interwoven we are
not the love of souls intertwined

mortals
flesh, blood and bone
delicate thread
unravelling
in a twisted skein

a place lost in the artistry of
fabric, easily damaged
fragile, worn edges
that a seamstress alone
cannot mend

©jmtacken Feb 2014
Photo Credit: www.pinterest.com

Thank you to Brian www.waystationone.com for another nudge (thankfully I have not suffered any bruising in the writing of the above)

Winter is approaching – Prose

stand centred
the inner circle
surrounded by
the ancient
my private sanctuary
I don my winter coat
of thoughts

wind lashes icy
against my cheek
razor blades
of a colder season
grey clouds multiply
play catch in the air
amid blackened skies
before night falls

I wait

inhale secrets
I beckon creatures
timbers crack
bristled whispers
the woodland starts
to breathe
creatures nocturnal
step cautiously
from daylit homes

the distance
the pack howls
with throats
stretched tight
guttural baying
to the opaque moon

footsteps soft on
moistened moss
quenching thirsts
at river beds
insects wary scurry
from the pray
the dark is coming

I am not afraid

darkness penetrates
I am a kindred spirit
where I stand
connect me with the
sounds of living on
this night

winter hard as stone
call forth my muse
from summer past
inspiration drawn

my muse awakes

my breath draws in
no longer does she
sleep within

Waiting for an outcome

http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/visdare-12-waiting.html  The word is WAITING.

Do I wait for a ‘God’ to answer me
is that why I am here
I don’t believe…agnostic though not complete
for I hold my hands in prayer

when life is troubled
can’t find my way
I find myself hands clasped
but religion and I aren’t
intertwined…no committed belief

I come here for solace
for the sanctuary within
towered columns and lead light
the safety recognised silence

The seats uniformed
no pews to sit I ‘grab a chair’
and cross my legs
contemplate life, reflect on what ‘if’s’

For there is comfort from the
world outside,  I hear
the organ keys hear the choir
of voices … what I need today

Whatever my belief even for this
second I am waiting
I sit introspective
for answers that I seek

For today’s thoughts could be
tomorrow’s memories
and comfort I may not need
let me be here… close the door

it is me… I purely seek

For Visdare