There is lavender
Dancing in prisms
Of our effortless hearts.
Waltzing in a sun kissed breeze,
While memories
Temporarily wash over
In happy sheep clouds
On a lemonade afternoon.
Tag: heart
Lemonade (day 1307)
Being able to take over the heart of an ancient soul was creating pressure within the young boys heart.
He saw wisdom, he saw truth, but he also saw the windows of time shift from opportunity to rest, from an ounce of hope to pains that lifted one awake shortly after midnight.
A silent lake was a window.
Like glass, a heart is precious; always suspended at the edges of tomorrow picturing faint smiles and implied intentions.
Here the young boy clutched tightly to his grandmothers pointer finger, understanding conscious kindness in her forever eyes that always found his quietly.
They were together often for this reason, but also her lemonade tasted like sweet nectar.
He would remember this as time would slowly reduce rations of nectar but still filled full with every bit of love.
Only mid-summer’s sun and a lazy bumblebee were present as Grandma smiled and laid her head against the sun chair, closing her eyes.
The young boy drew a shape of a heart on the dusty table top before he walked down the steps and out into the yard where he found his foot soldier, Rusty, the valiant family golden retriever that kept watch over the young boy while Grandma rested her smiling heart – shaded, but in the sun.
From My Heart and Throat (day 1302)
Some days I don’t want to exist anymore.
Some days I don’t want truth to be hovering
Around the center vortex of my cranium.
And it’s not even a weight,
It’s a lifting feeling that attaches itself
And continually pulls my gaze
..and hands
To face collecting clouds with nothing but
Questions rolling from heart and throat and
Rain drops that keep falling down my face.
Daffodils at Midnight (day 1301)
Daffodils start bleeding from my heart
In a slow waltz on repeat.
Here I yearn for my midnight sequence
That has pushed me to my pointe,
To this elegant embrace, eternally romantic,
With no leftovers breathing hopelessly
As night gets turned down low.
A midnight candle’s glow.
Burning Learning (day 1293)
You’re not a hero until you’ve carried, tall,
Souls of motherless children upon a back so bent;
Until weather pulls your burning heart,
And swarthes upon unkempt stars.
It’s here that builds a hero’s heart,
To link a master with learning’s start.
For now and then we think we are
Beyond the truth; not quite so far.
Take your truth and run it far,
Relive a thousand lives astart!
But don’t mistake a hero’s heart
For social injustice, as gone so far.
Take your ends and tie them tight!
The ride is long and plenty steep,
And all great wisdom is buried deep.
Sewn With My Name (day 1285)
When you whisper my name a thousand miles away
A little fairy floats from you on to me
With a gift wrapped in satin, sewn with my name.
Moments keep building through conquest and torture,
With every gamble perching icicles upon our brows
That tickle and fancy and etch out our fate.
My deepened breath at the sight of your fairy
Keep me awake, for no thought should go wasted;
No lingering memory or heart pitter-patter missed.
Just like my serpent, I’m alive with no name,
All else flickers and slithers; lost into bane.
‘Goes here with my fairy, a thousand miles away.
Soft Center Spot (day 1284)
I access warm parts of my heart
With a soft center spot.
I dig for that whisper that tells me my way.
And then, there I am,
Standing with open arms
Outstretched for grabbing.
Open wide to catch all that I can,
To be loud and obnoxious,
To be silent and free.
To be home and happy; family.
Gray and White Breaks (day 1283)
Can you follow me upon a speeding star
Along wild roads where wind’s through our hair?
I’ve never been out past the seasons mild rain
To be seen once again by the woman with no name.
Long walks together carry a rhythmic harmony
That pulls and begs and lifts love, my name.
Like long winded breaks I’ve fallen over you
Where tomorrows forever will champion my heart.
Hurtling and spitting with venemous fury
Gray and white breaks shall be my amorous flurry.
Should ever your fancy be found to be unstrung,
Let my guiding thunder be the reason you run.
And all over islands, heated by warm sun
Shall be our own quarters, to dine in gay coitus.
Not Alone (day 1282)
I am not alone in this.
I am not standing here;
Soft music serenading
My lonely heart.
I am not a typist
Rhythmically dancing to
Magical clicks spelling off
Ransom notes of varying
Degrees of importance.
But my fingernails are delicately pruned,
So wands and spells can expertly roll – Full of life and other such necromances –
Off and away and beyond
These simple imaginations of a man,
Not alone, but lonely.
Howl Right Back (day 1277)
If it wasn’t for all the time I spend
Laying in bed wild and free,
I’d have surely lost all my passion
To be here now with you.
For when the moon howls at me
And tells me strongly to:
“Avoid the day, avoid the stone,
Set your spirit free.”
I’m often inclined to howl right back
Singing my favorite song.
But my heart! How it rides!
How it holds my hands and squeezes!
I’m in too far, I’m comfortable,
And my coffee gets delivered to me.
How can I go on wondering,
How does time elude my plan,
Did I walk off with silly games
I’d never make it home to play?
A memory that comes to me
Usually sets me free.
Like Hindenburg, Heidelberg,
Like Huxley, Hoyt, and Hank.
Like one thousand soldiers
Returning home
After two years of endless war.
Like comfort that you give me
As I lay side by side with you,
I reach into my back pocket
And expose my satisfaction,
I’m home.