When did my hands start to look so old?
I hope one day I will return
And it will wash away
And I will be let out to run
In the sweet grass that stains
My fingertips
Month: April 2016
Rabbit’s Foot Luck (day 1776)
Imagine my surprise
When I came to see your eyes;
In front of me,
So wild and free
And carelessly wandering about
Indescript lines
My heart would forever dream could see.
For decidedly my time
Would wash my deepest thoughts
From holding me inward,
To let forever be free,
To let unanswered be me,
For my soft rabbit’s foot luck
Rested in the eyes
Set upon the brown moon of my heart
Traced in hands I reached out to be.
Ode to a Perfectly Placed Bench to Enjoy Nature (day 1775)
About my way
A merry one I should say
I wondered to myself:
My dear sweet man
What have you done,
You’ve gone and walked yourself out.
So there I was
A bit confused
Wondering what I could do
To rest my weary legs a while
To recoup my troubled mind.
And all at once
You appeared to me
Like some magic: unleashed
And set free,
Which I took as queue
And found my rest
Upon your well worn stead.
Ode to Rays of Sunlight (day 1774)
Sweet embrace
I have been chasing
A wild and reckless feeling
That’s caught my feet
And held my hand
As I jumped and jumped again
But then I froze
And I was froze
And watched a twinkling beam
That filled up me
And changed my thought
To a memory I’ve not forgotten
Sweet Moments (day 1773)
I am an expression of sadness
Lying lazily in the sun
Forgetting what I’ve heard
And letting go of all I’ve learned
To have a sweet moment
Agape
While everything else remains
Like poles in a lost lagoon
Stilts for a man
Long gone, long lost,
Long given up and moved on.
Early or Late (day 1772)
I am not secret letters
Or a piece of written word
I am not Spring’s blossoms
Or twigs left to the wind
I am not warmth in a hug
Or laughter of memory
I am not sweet sun so high
Nor pale moon tonight
I am not bed to rest thy head
Or coffee to rouse morning dread
I am not sound from croaking frogs
Or serenade from happy birds
I am not late
Or early
I am
Or I am
Ringing in My Ear (day 1771)
My delicate isles of sandalwood veins
Cure the goldest of sunrises,
Shaking wet last evening’s remains
With a cold cusp of fragrance and
Tracing spirals around my useless keys
That mingle symphonically
With a harsh ringing in my ear;
My dear lover, I meant to tell you.
And now I am gone.
Ode to Driftwood (day 1770)
Did you know where my heart would land
When it landed upon your shores
Or did you leave it up to chance
When you washed away my tears?
For when I shared a glance with you
Reaching from skyline, sea, to shore
I was in the midst of lament
A loss that’d shaken my very core.
Yet to my gale, I did wish my chance
To thrive towards another day
So up you came into my bag
For a project of my labour.
Ode to a Lonely Pine (day 1769)
Like my grandfather that came to rest
Rocking slowly in his old pine chair,
You watch the vista with an open air
Shaking loose your frazzled hair.
For in the cold months
You stand tall and proud,
And in the dark days
Your silhouette is my lighthouse home,
And in crisp mornings
Your tips refresh me
Like my eyelids breaking free.
But before I walk up to shake your hand
I wait for you to permit me through,
For your roots stretch long beneath the floor
And touch my home, forever more.
Ode to an Alpine Lake (day 1768)
How graceful does your movement be
Shallow waters, through which I can see
Teal of blue, my heart for you
Icy waters to cleanse my soul.
And as my breath calms its quest
I reflect in the hazy aftermath
To where my heart echoes through
A long memory, and a calm cup of tea.
