through the pines – Prose

Rove beyond the pines standing straight and tall
gather bracken, wood and leaves to make our bed
lay your body on the ground, gaze towards the clouds
as you wait, I shan’t be long to take my place
laying by your side

hands we’ll hold and skin will touch as fingertips
entwine, we’ll watch stars shoot across the sky
capturing glimpses of the crescent moon that peeks and
hides, we shall listen to the night wind as it journey’s
through the trees and breathe the nettles of the pines that
stand so straight and tall

lips will meet with eyes open wide, I’ll stare into
the ocean of your soul, on a bed of bracken, wood
and leaves, as gentle fingers caress my back
quivering at your deft touch, the taste of skin has
quenched me, the moon and stars witness to our love

the night quietly fell away, eyes opened by the
sunrise just beyond the hill, through the pines
that stand straight and tall on the bracken, leaves
and wood; morning in the forest where we made love
the night before, I shall blush asking if you
love me, you answer with a smile, in my bosom
the beat is silent replaced with violins and harps

mirage

[youtube.com/watch?v=K6RBZZOJfn0]

sunset
before the darkness throws a blanket
that tucks the world to sleep
I search
through desert sands barefoot
and the wind will blow and nothing will remain

heat shimmers – belly dancer
it slows my steps, but not my heart
I have a thirst
only you can quench
and the wind will blow and nothing is the same

you are real, my memories clear
a chance meeting, we are kindred
you asked me to follow
to the ends of the earth
the end of the sand
and the wind will blow and I am near

oh moon be patient; let the sun breathe
its final breath, visions of you haunt
I feel you in my heart
but my touch is out of reach
mirage
oasis
and the wind blows… leaving me thirsty

Decastich – Oceans Edge

Decastich is any whole poem or free verse of 10 lines.

My eyes weep not from sadness but from
the gentle warm breeze that floats this
night, shuffling bare feet in golden grains,
marking the sand with a slide of foot,
tasting the sea air as it rests on my lips,
watching the half-moon hide behind clouds,
reaching out to touch stars that light up
the darkness, gently embracing the glow of
midnight light that bathes the darkened seas,
inwardly smile at the beauty that surrounds me.

Words…..

I’m listening to Sarah McLachlan…& I am listening to Angel.

Music…songs & their words…bring out a different me….possibly hard to understand or for me to explain… but shall I say my emotions change, they heighten & I’m empowered to write simply by listening to lyrics…

My writing emerges from within me, sometimes I do not intentionally choose the words, or the scenarios…my words choose me...what ever wishes to materialise from somewhere inside my being…persuades me to write. I may not have a wide vocabulary nor be as eloquent as some other writers…but I am compelled none the less to do so..

Listening to Sarah at this moment in time

I picture rolling green hills & glistening blades of grass brushed by a sun shower, the suns rays reaching out to kiss the  world beneath from behind the slow rolling clouds…I picture white crested waves tumbling leisurely to the shore, stretching themselves out to reach the hot sands before rolling back onto themselves…I picture forests tall, as I walk upon crackling Autumn leaves beneath my feet, tall timbers being graced by the light of the sun caressing their canopy…I picture a new born foal unsteadily trying to stand to suckle from his mother…I picture an open fire, staring at the coloured flames, listening to the crackling of the wood as it relinquishes its fight against the fire that embraces it…I picture a new born being placed on her mother & to watch the tears that fall upon the mothers cheek as she gazes with intense love upon her perfect child…I picture rain drops settled against a frosted window pane slowly trickling downwards and breathing warm air upon the glass to draw pictures…I picture my parents tenderly holding hands or exchange a smile… I picture lying on a blanket on a warm summer evening and gazing above at an almost blackened sky that has come alive with stars…I picture my daughters when I sat in a dimly lit room on a rocking chair to feed them in the early hours of quiet still morning..their small hands grasping my fingers… watching their eyelids close from being sated with milk & a sweet sleepy smile..

so many things that music & lyrics bring me..

so I write not for acceptance…

I write because I am compelled to share my inner voice that can only be heard on paper…

no one can stop my love of writing, no one can stop what is so much a part of me..

& if perhaps my writing may touch a life…

with laughter…a smile…or perhaps even a tear..

that is the only recognition I as a writer need…

HOPE

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars

Charles A Beard

You don’t get to choose how you’re going to die

Or when

You can only decide how you’re going to live

NOW

Joan Baez

Imagine the people in your life as tiny infants & as 100 year old adults. Ask yourself this question “Will this matter a year from now?”

Richard Carlson

The grand essentials to happiness in life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for

Joseph Addison

HOPE