I’ve been wondering what the curve of your hips feels like
Watching it sway about the room from my perch
While I lazily ignore the whims of this busy world
Taking you away from me now.
I reach out at every chance I get, of course,
A squeeze that so leaves me enchanted…
And of our conversation while your rainbow of smells
Fill my soul with emotions and memories,
Yet filled with rich vibrancy of time,
That I’ve been counting from me to you
Like flowers in a sunny, afternoon stroll
Through a field that makes me jealous
(Holding memories it so caresses)
Where my feet find sturdy ground to proceed.
Tag: sunny
Edges (day 1911)
Off you go, into the North
Leaving me here all wrapped in alone,
I see the tender wind a blowing
Guiding you on your way.
All around green leaves are turning,
At first in yellows at the edge,
Then before I know to check my season,
Fully entrapped in brown as vivacious earth below.
This makes me think of how you’ve taken
Over these delicate edges of my heart;
At first you were sweet wind blowing
On a sunny, summer afternoon.
Then you started to set my edges
To warmer shades of home,
Until at last, I fell, expanded,
Into this palm you call forever.
And all the while, I’ve always trusted
An unerring cycle of our earth;
North to South, East to West,
Forest trails from here to there,
And as I turn my inner eye
(Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer)
I realize no matter the colour of the sky
It’s nothing, unless you are the colour of my home.
Sunshine (day 1900)
It’s sunny today,
Just like the rainbows of my thoughts –
Misting and bright,
In and amidst
Refreshing showers of change
That have changed my landscape
Forever, the end.
News (day 1839)
I asked you in an earnest voice
If the weather had been nice –
A windowless entrance into your mind
A sunset in the sky.
And your sunglasses gave you away
On this sunny side of our street
Where I ventured just one other guess
As to where your lover had been lately.
To which you looked the other way
And left me holding onto your
Glass purse now splayed on the floor.
A prison I could only guess,
As I collected quite the mess
In shadows and eye liner pens.
So I turned back into my coffee
That was more straight then you did seem
To let her cursing steam away
And the news was getting cold.
Shade and A Sunny Day (day 1807)
I learned upon sitting
On the sunny side of life
How unbearably warm it gets
Without a single ounce of shade,
And even when one is
Quite miserably cold
The quickness of the sun to warm
How quick to change my day.
So like a lazy dog who
Has no reserve or restraint
There I am, changing seats,
Finding warmth in a shady kind of way.
Another Song (day 1305)
He lost a lover to another song.
She had always floated on
To a tune he kept trying to sing,
But as Summer Solstice sends away
Warmer sunny days,
He was never held the same.
Never wisdom on better days.
And then she danced away.
Earth as We Know It (day 636)
Apocalyptic desires spread across the landscape into horizons of jubilant joy, needlessly wandering about the edges in a vignetted blur of reason and sacrifice.
All that was known then suddenly became lost, like the vision from the eyes when consciousness is shifted into the willing arms of a sideways glance, a flicker at the edges of a landscape.
Energy begins to build with anticipation and excitement; roaming birds know this feeling well, they make love to the feeling on sunny days when warm winds blow fresh scents of motherly creations of earth upon their nest.
Laying absentmindedness at the door, whipper-whisps swap the mind to the present, dust floats up from the awoken floorboards hitting sunlight that delights lovers, playing with time and space it’s exchange grows with anticipation into one final exultant gasp and releases such a tremor the rest fall into a deep dark sleep.
Deep within runs wild, from all except the grumpy gnome, the soldier of harbouring resentment, who scowls at all life and pushes away forthcoming joys to create for himself the place he never wished he had.
Alongside this dwelling of darkness runs a brook wild, over mossy rocks, through gnarled trees, past covered bridges, and out into the pussy willows and lily pads.
Taking away with it, from upstream down to the lowlands, all hate, love, magic, potions, desires, misspent emotions, and dying flowers into a new season of germination where new things shall sprout and grow with playful arches of sun that float onwards and away as the magical fruits of earth we know.