A Life Obtainable 

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A window into ever after,
Witnessing from afar, a life
Where forests grow,
Oceans lap endlessly
And desires are still
Encouraged, sought after
And dreamed.
A place where faith,
Comes first, as our
Initial breath, while
prairie grass bows
Towards wind, steadfast.
Homes are full of heat,
Not just from bread baking,
But from love honest
and complete. Endless
Work, and time to pause
Deemed important,
Yet over time, has been lost.

Stoic Protector

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Do you know the owl,
The one who sits now
Upon the middle limb,
The patchwork branch,
Of a once thriving essence?
Her skin is exposed,
Bare, light timber
Amongst veined,
Even freckled patches of,
Black and grey bark.
Owl remains perched,
Guarding at the helm,
As the brightest star sets
Behind thinning stock, and
What is now his tree,
Whether he chooses to
Believe it or not.
She’s the aftermath of
Witnessed abuse,
Pain felt,
And reoccurring sadness
As others depart.
He’s her stoic protector
And shall not fade
With the evening sun.

With or Without

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She was quiet this morning,
Dawn, that is, miraculous,
Peaceful in her timeless dignity.

Two mallards skim rural water, as twin rogues,
Before taking flight with one another,
Their sky, a season of cerulean.

An ibis flirted with stoic wind,
Hardly noticed and without sound,
As her white wings rode his reliable gift.

Nature thrilled with my insistent watchful probe,
Created a warm glow from the rising sun,
Behind clouds, the color of smoke.

In the end, my eyes focused,
On a spider crawling about her web,
Intricate designer, naked to most.

Her long legs seemingly stretched across,
Compressed air, as I questioned myself, almost,
But, chose to alter my angle, instead.

Life reassured me, artistry brought into focus,
Minutes passed, comfort took hold,
As I found you there, too.

How do I know?
Alone, I briefly turned and whispered in awe,
“You’re seeing this, aren’t you?”

Hood replaced reluctantly, closed tight
Gloved hands situated
Into warm inviting pockets
I continue amongst what’s frozen

Like Driving Out of Control

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All I want is you,
To make you proud
When all I can do
Is be me, when is
Enough good enough?
My steering wheel has
Too much bulk, my fingertips
Are cold, hold on, while
My heart drives out
Of control.
These shoes today, a horrible
Choice. Sure, watch me limp
Across the street,
Ha, still me wishful
Thinking, longing.
Curly hair, blown by
Monday’s fluttering wind
Let it be, messy again.
My mind spins against time
And all I hear is patience,
I’m fighting my
Inner child

You’ll Know

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You’ll know
It’ll be in the way
She holds you
Her embrace
Heals
Loves without doubt
Believes in
Umbrellas
Open doors
Inside of the sidewalk
Strong hand leading
At the small of her back
Accepting sounds
As answers, a sigh, a groan
Gentle smirk and stern look
Her embrace
Accepts you
And honors
Who you’ve always been
For it is your transparency
She adores
And how your love feels
When she’s against your skin

Good Morning

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Been fussing with my tree for a few days. Tryin’ to create festive feelings by decorating. Each morning brings colder weather and along with it the sniffles and coughs.

The children have been giving 100% in all their activities and with school. My responsibilities are being tended to, as well. The Christmas season is upon us. A lot to be thankful for this year. Today, we’re going to take in the wonder of our many blessings.

I hope you do, as well.

Happy Sunday, Y’all.

To Know Her, Is To Love Her

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one
the color of her pudgy nose
when it’s cold outside
and she’s in her happy place
called Late Autumn

two
sides to her sassy mouth
often chewed upon
when she attempts
to slide away, giggling 

three
deep dimples
worth searching for
after finding two, living
beside her shy smile

four
corners to two hazel eyes
who’ve witnessed pain,
but questioned perfection
with sparkled contentment 

five
toes, each foot
she often wished were
painted in a rainbow of
your favorite colors

six
freckles lay, forever
atop a ring finger
she often wonders
is worthy of adornment

seven
calming breaths needed
on a quiet, dark night
when dreams
come to soothe her

eight
miles from town
she’s driven, even walked
in order to feel
closer to simple 

nine
her favorite number
and the many opportunities
it’ll take to convince her,
an introverted extrovert 

ten
fingers, yes, predictable
but that’s what she adores
craves, the honesty
trust and unity provide