Take me away to a place I know
but could never go
till you told me so.
Carry me into a deep desire
where passion’s fire
is flaming higher.
Burn me awake with your melting kiss
and the greatest bliss
that on earth exists…
—
My Quadrille in response to Björn’s “bliss” prompt at
dVerse.
I searched so long for you,
that when you appeared it was almost too much.
Now what?
What lines will we cross?
Which boundaries will crumble?
Or more accurately, whose?
And how many borders will we conquer?
Heaven knows
the Spirit has no concept of lines
or boundaries.
And borders?
The Infinite is, INFINITE,
so there is no such thing.
I am grateful
that I didn’t think,
too long, or maybe at all.
And didn’t say,
“I want another color,
someone younger,
closer,
more this,
and less that.”
I accepted you as you were,
with open heart and hands.
But you crossed lines I drew around myself
and broke down boundaries anyway.
You vaulted over borders
I thought were my fate!
I no longer search for you,
but you are still almost too much
for my mind to conceive.
And so may its lines,
boundaries,
and borders
continue to be pushed back
so far into the past,
that though we remember,
we forget their meaning
in love and gratitude.
Until the new mind is a landscape
of eternal possibility
that only the Spirit understands!
—
My response to another wonderful prompt hosted by Grace at
dVerse.
I rode a water slide of tears this Summer. It started in loss. I still don’t know what happened, or what I did wrong. But someone I thought was a friend decided enough was enough. So, being who I am, I said, “God bless you,” and went on my way without another word.
I slid down that slippery slope, thinking it would never end. My spirit went with it, until the night the heavens opened. A real friend, the best friend I’ve ever had, gave his heart to me with a song.
There were more tears. In fact, the whole Summer has been nothing but rain. Yet these new tears are joyful ones, and the water slide of loss, ended in a pool of love.
monsoon rains pelt me
hot and fast until they stop
teardrop sparkles shine
—
A “What I Did on my Summer Vacation” haibun for Toni’s prompt at
dVerse.
What’s straight as an arrow and spins like a web?
What makes you so hungry while keeping you fed,
Awakens you softly to toss in your bed;
Though much has been written, so little is said…
What helps you to fly while it’s holding you close?
What asks you for nothing and gives you the most,
And sings you a song no one ever composed;
We try to explain it, but nobody knows…
What gives you the world as the world falls away?
What longs for the night as it brightens each day,
Erasing the words as it writes a new page;
We speak and we sing, but the mind cannot say…
What’s fluffy as clouds and as steady as rock?
What door can be open with no key or knock?
What frees as it binds with the strongest of knots?
Your love is the answer the question forgot.
Wading through the choices…
Zombies,
Job interviews,
Requirements beyond my wildest nightmares…
Wishing, praying
For one good turn,
One encouraging word,
One ray of hope in a sea of darkness…
And then there was you!
No zombie waiting to strike,
No ambush of interview questions…
Just what I asked for?
I couldn’t believe it myself.
And the best part? No dating website involved!
—
Another free verse sonnet, this one inspired by
Kim’s wonderful poem!
I touched the veil with fingertips; beyond my reach
a dreamscape of wishes and desires.
It parted just enough
to tease me with endless possibility.
But like a door slammed on my hand,
the veil closed with a final bang,
as if nailed tighter than a coffin
of dreams laid to rest before their time.
But I awoke one day, the sun on my face!
No veil, no coffin.
But life! Life! Life!
And the glimpse became a landscape
of blissful reality
unveiled in the Light of your Love!
—
Free verse sonnet in response to Björn’s prompt at
dVerse.
Join us, won’t you? We’re a welcoming crew!
I tuned into your name and struck
A chord of sweet delight.
Your spirit music to my soul
In every word you write.
Together as His instruments,
We play a love so true.
God tuned and blessed my deepest dreams
In harmony with you.
—
Quadrille in response to De’s “dream” prompt at
dVerse.
Today is but a window seen
By eyes so green-
Or sadly sore
From all they bore.
And yesterday? A window bare.
Do not despair.
We can’t return;
Don’t let it burn.
Tomorrow is a window bright!
Unfiltered Light
Ignites the way-
So seize the day!
—
Written for Frank’s intriguing
Minute Poem prompt
and Lillian’s thought-provoking
Window Poetics.
I feel that precious can
Come open in my hand
And realize God created all
The best He ever could.
I touch that coffee can,
Proclaiming, “It is good!”
I smell aromas strong;
Sure as the day is long.
I’m waking up and taking on
More than I thought I could.
Inhaling coffee brewing,
Proclaiming, “It is good!”
I listen to the purr,
The gurgle and the whirr.
It’s music in a magic pot,
A song of purest gold.
I hear the dripping fade,
Proclaiming, “It is good!”
I taste that perfect cup
Of morning pick-me-up,
Or afternoon or evening,
Most any time will do.
I sip that cup of coffee,
Proclaiming, “It is good!”
If I could see one sight,
One special glimpse of Light,
I wonder if it wouldn’t be
A blessed and smiling fool,
A face just like my very own,
Proclaiming, “It is good!”
Young Richard with a group set sail
To catch the village fish,
And on his way imprisoned by
A Spanish pirate ship.
Distraught, the men worked hard as slaves;
Young Richard, he did pine.
But stole a bit of Master’s gold
For her he left behind.
From precious gold he shaped a ring
With prayers to God above
That he return one bless-ed day
To marry his true love.
The years went by and years went by,
As Richard kept his heart
Until the day he was released,
So happy to depart.
Returning home he found his love,
Remaining ever true.
The Claddagh Ring he gave to her,
A token of the proof.
Today we wear the Claddagh still,
With hands and heart and crown.
It shines upon the hand of one
Whom her true love has found,
Reminding all who see it:
Love does make the world go round!
—
My poetic version of the Irish
Legend of the Claddagh.
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