Moonlit Spell (day 2563)

I came into the firelight when
The moon hollered my name
Whispered into my ear
Little memories I’d long forgotten
Spoke of a journey through the mist
Of a far off island adventure
A dog for a companion
Who chased away the ghosts.

There were streets of cobblestones
In an old quarter of an ancient town
Where whispers followed me,
I watched ghosts in their wagons go
And sat motionless in firelight
Dancing to and fro
Lost in reverie
Sunken into moonlight’s deepest spell.

This Vessel (day 2559)

I’ve grown fond of tripping over ropes as I lean forward at the rail upon this mighty ship.
My hair blows into my face and it feels good letting go,
Though each time I rummage for more hope
I feel the wind crying at me as if I have always forgotten to say goodnight to it.
But I havent!
I whisper my serenity prayer each night I lay awake in bed,
And count the trees bending under the weight of their new leaves blowing to and fro.
I am forgetful, so I cannot be perfect.
But I plan my next voyage with this ship the vessel that will take me there,
Which makes me smile as my hand rummages through a few frayed strands that tell me stories.

Moon’s Song (day 2557)

When I flew upon these wings
I spoke to you in thunder
Carried on up through my eyes
Left me ever wilder.

Clouds became my lily pads
Dancing I shook the ground
And when I played the Moon a song
Sweet Sun came around.

Braced I landed on both my feet
Flexing as I prepared
Passion ready, nostrils flared
Stretched every sinue clear.

There I lay neigh blinking
Wide open you stared at me
We lasted here not long enough
Patience of routine’s design.

What You Do To Me (day 2554)

I am not the innocence you thought me to be
I’m scarred and torn from the inside out
Been held down and held out and held you in my hand
And I’m not sorry I ever let you in.
See, I’m a Tuesday in a Wednesday dress
Walking slowly with an elegant step
That sings songs of bygone;
A ministry of typewriters click-clacking away,
Mindfully absent, worrying about another day
That’s long past the next Prime Minister’s term.
I spill coffee in my hands to smell the beans,
Leaving a thorough understanding
Of what you do to me.
Though I leave my open door ajar,
I walk past and sing my song.