If You’ll Allow It

You can hear the sound of this machine working
– you know you can –
if you’re as old as me,
and grew up in a small Midwestern town,
she was an occasional reality.
We heard about newfangled ways of serving others,
but what we had was good enough.
We understood how to fix her, simple trial and error,
no fuss or awkward searching – some days a little pat on the bottom, or the sweet whisper of, “come on baby” and she’d spring to life.
I smile because she was a dinosaur in the 80s,
yet we were proud.
Seems there is still plenty of good happening right here,
if you’ll allow it.

Discovery

I miss the days of lost in cerulean and clouds,
even though searching for you came with a cost,
my mind ardently invented you as I lie on the ground.

moments screamed past me then, and there’s no getting them back,
yet I feel fulfilled when memories rush in,
blessed, some would say to forget what I lacked.

a path was forged, one I so desperately needed,
the voice inside me tasted like screaming –
to most it wouldn’t make sense but free, my friend, isn’t always freedom.

An Entire World Awaits

what is time without a watchful eye,
til color fades, we mustn’t
gray tones allow hope
say it is so, dear one.
how is it my hands feel the road and its bumps,
while tires roll atop –
proof we’ve been here before
and what a journey it was.
clouds become pillows,
for murmurs under the sheets,
and the rain in the distance
a melody I remember and
cherish, please believe.
today is full of beauty, I smirk
yet again.
passionate in the ordinary I shall remain,
and glimpses of tomorrows
shall nudge me forward,
across the plains.

This Night

as our sun sets I reach for you
a hint please, if even this exists.
why would I question
your strength surrounds me
the wind becomes your touch
the geese flying behind me
speak the words I long to hear
yet, in a language
I cannot understand.
my eyes settle on tangerine hues
as my world settles in
for the night.
I sigh good evening, my love,
where have you been and where shall we go?

Summons

ringlets the color of copper pennies
arms stretched out into blue,
wildflowers in lilac are hidden
yet aching to appear.

a vision in giggles while the swoosh
of her skirt passes through,
blissful pockets of lush blankets,
as the sun summons her here.

now bound in heaven upon earth
swells abide in precise hues
did Aurora lead the way or
simply twilight, craving her near.

If …

if you played the guitar, I’d listen
watch your fingers sort the notes
classic bass tones mutter,
they’re the ones I love the most

if painting was your passion
topography comes to mind
blues depicting life in detail
I’d sit pretty within the sky line

if the voyage across the seas
called you away; waking the beast inside
use your mind, I’d plea
wouldn’t be like you to hide

if photography was your passion
and you found me teary-eyed in wonder
nature hook’d a poetess of attraction
and to know her is to love her

Vulnerability

we’re supposed to be thankful,
even prepared for adventure,
makes us tougher.
I didnt ask, and strength is relative.

Bitter

Pristine in color
brings laughter along to play
causes wistfulness.
I’d beg, but daylight is fleeting.

Revelation

Snowflakes’ touch is delicate
lips ruby red; passionate
my tongue quick to taste.
The water slows, and life quiets.

Peace

With Change

when gathering
for granddad’s funeral
no one’s vehicle tires turned into the yard similarly.
even gravel sounded different as folks drove in and chose a place to park.
the earth where his brown Ford pickup had been parked for nearly 70 years
– until Uncle drove it away –
had grass growing again,
but had for nearly fifteen years, I suppose.
I wonder if I’m the only one
who noticed. I never asked.