I came across
With fingers, gently .
Tips to skin
Lingering upon chest,
Muscles strong, aging
Beautifully,
Which held stories
Of life, working
Pain and pleasure.
Thriving heartbeat
Awakened sensations
Within me,
Pump pump pump
Felt. Enjoyed. Eased.
I’d been there before,
Or hadn’t,
But I will be again.
Northern winds, usually sonorous, prepare a mournful tune
wheeling sallow remains,
once bale,
across open fields,
just yesterday.
He slowly wakes her,
quiet, and the only one
as love’s color lays upon velvet petals, he hums.
His hands feel her beautiful,
remarkable, softly serene. His murmur, awakening her scent at dawn, leads her blossoming.
Helios, Titan god of her sun, stretches and whispers she is exquisite, mine and for now, done.
Hurts me, almost
Always. Remembering.
I knew, almost
Always. The lie.
Pain comes, almost
Always. At daylight.
I fail, almost
Always. Forgetting.
I need, almost
Always. The affirmation.
I am, almost
Always. Enough.
My friend, Jacqui, gives solid advice on writing every day on her site, Worddreams. Her tips, as an editor and accomplished author, have often helped me strengthen my writing. I’m humbled with her mention of my poetry today and during April’s National Poetry Month. Her gift this morning brings a shine to my eyes and fuel to my journey. Thank you, Jacqui. ♡
Poetry is not something I’m good at writing so I enjoy it vicariously through online friends like Audrey Dawn of Oldest Daughter and Red-headed Sister. I’ve been following her for several years and always find her poetry startlingly personal, quick peeks into a world ruled by emotion and heart. I’m way to structured for that so only enjoy it through someone else’s eyes.
To honor April’s National Poetry Month, here are fifteen tips from those who have no trouble delivering this concise-but-pithy form of writing:
use
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Holistic Wayfarer made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, so I wrote a guest post a few weeks ago. I’m thrilled to see my memorable story on her blog tonight. Honored and better for the journey…
We were a family before that Autumn arrived, and I possessed an innocence I find myself briefly memorializing. Turning right off the curving highway of the farming community I once called home places me on Hickory Street and the breeze through the window, smelling of Nebraska dirt, welcomes me back. I was 11 that year.
“Too hot to work, Chris,” I declare, getting comfortable on the grassy fringe of my pebbly street.
The afternoon sun, halting the progress of a finished tree house, creates sparkling stones that slide through my fingers and into the pockets of my shorts. Too many treasures to leave behind or live without, as dirt patterns on my hands become spiraling rivers and the first letter of a loved one’s name.
Then an incline, along the north side of Hickory, runs next to my house. Children find respite from the feverish tunnel-building on the hill of…
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Contemplated life
Eternity the distance
Stone faced, sat due west
I could write
Of yesterday
And the pain it caused,
Or continue to cry
Over what was lost,
Either one overburdened
And neither,
Change anything.
Springtime twilight royal
Atop sweet apricot hues,
Feet kicked up, porch side
A slow country view,
Illuminate my horizon, love
And stare, as I wink towards you.
do you remember, feeling
the soft brush of a whisper
upon your neck?
gentle thaw of shivers
frozen’s early revealing
i’ll never forget
ornamental treasure,
fruit of strength, a beauty,
the intendment.
enduring winter’s touch,
one’s arranged depletion,
should’ve changed her, did.
timber’s forbidden release,
her lifeline, clinging,
precious she will remain.
Affluence of purification
Continue reading
Purple hues and hushed tones
Obediently inspire a poetess
For as light is required of day
Poetry eases through one’s soul
So who am I to deny life,
Might we humbly continue?
As my memories caress the hint
Of Spring’s sweet young breeze
I go in search of innocence
And where I began.
Auburn ringlets, sway
Carrying an eager tone of giggles
Found in fairytales of peace and virtue.
As I push my legs forward,
I daydream. Nothing has changed.
the purpose of future,
dear one, shall always be
the promise of offering
individuality.
reveal yourself, hear my revenant whisper
there will be no one else
quite like you, accept
life’s spirited blessing.
Carry me, across cerulean
Allow me to dip,
My hazel eyes
Make me your Aurora
I’ll paint a divine sky
And bring you your dawning
There may be nothing else
Quite like her, beaming
Willing to arch within sunlight,
Spectacular favor.
Candied flora exposed, impressionable, it seems.
Truth be told, if you watch
Her heart exudes passion,
Quite instinctively, efflorescence,
life’s luxury.
May I…?
I have a few words left inside of me, if you listen intently you’ll hear them pleading, “Audrey, write us as poetry.”
Forever the shy one with something to say, yet I return no longer hidden. I humbly ask for grace as I allow my soul the opportunity to speak again.
I miss you. I apologize for being away. My life has changed, but I’m still me. Just now gaining strength and peeking through… My poetry will continue.
Love Always,
Audrey Dawn
Thoughtful and creative words
Full of thankfulness,
Reflect me, as a woman
Appreciative of being heard.
These gifts
Are nothing in comparison
To my submission
As I offered myself to you.
I waited a long time to be seen
Through your poetic eyes
Read my poetry, and find clearly
I felt you long before you arrived.
***
Thank you for listening,
Aud
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 