the smile in her eyes
shines like sun
her grin, feathers like petals in the breeze
and those dimples well,
for him, one day,
they’ll be his everything.
Oh, Daisy
Tag Archives: Poem
Room
heard and its appreciated
regardless of distance
creation begins with ends
sight isnt always known
again, seems defeating, but beauty gains power, seen and listened to
graciously so
nature heals as do words
patience allowed
creates soft places
where new truly grows
Loss
when the call comes
time stands down
knees buckle
wind escapes the very breath I needed to speak.
a cry from within –
within me – it shocks,
shocks the very core of my being, a result
everyone warned me of feeling deep inside,
but then regret:
the regret of putting off
everything I should have said when it still mattered.
the searching begins
the desire for proof –
proof we existed together in this world
making the memories we shared valid,
meaningful and somehow important.
but then the awareness arrives,
becoming fully aware
eyes wide open,
there is nothing here to prove our connection;
my love.
lacking tangible evidence of a bond created out of a deep need to feel a part of something I lacked,
is the torture I, until today, didn’t realize I would be living with now forever.
Resilience
focused amongst darkness,
blind to a last chance and determined to count regrets.
cherish, even the ending, with the promise to never forget,
light sparks as it is extinguished
and her heart flutters, yes.
Pursuit
dreams surround a homesteading such as this,
no amount of work could persuade them to leave.
his heart was given so long ago, and the farm has held on ever since.
the birds sang quite rightly the day she pulled in,
the tire was giving her fits.
when he took his cap off and extended his hand,
his eyes caused hers to lift, amused by the pink shade of shy she wore with her smile, he let off on his farmer’s tight grip.
hard became harder as sunsets created do-overs, and laughter filled the crisp winter air.
facts remained, but pleasure pursued as two strangers became one another,
encouraging life to come tumbling after.
Weeding Out
Imperative for growth to flourish appropriately,
It’s a sinking feeling when the time arrives,
And one we rarely want to admit to, because normalcy is comfortable.
Sometimes change masks itself as unknown, but we know.
One gut-wrenching pull at a time convinces us of its necessity, and the digging continues.
Beauty is stifled by its surroundings, however, she clings to what slowly kills her.
The world is full of what should be if we lean in: find grounding and settle.
Surely the weeding ends,
And the tools go back to the shelf.
Persuasion
glows does the moon
beyond the branches, which held verdant prisms of summertime,
rich with thoughts of what could be come daylight.
a star just to the north points towards a path I’m unsure of
but regrettably stare into,
the cold air touches the tears I shed for the prayers I’ve said,
nothing makes sense as the fairytale ends.
night, oh night, you shout at me so,
what shall come of my young soul; trapped in a body at the peak of her age
clouds bustle by, such hurry
I ponder what awaits
just past the horizon of a foolish wish, held back by this garden gate.
With Whys
with a harvest so plentiful,
why is there no joy
with billows of copper creams within the sky,
why do I fear tomorrow
with air as crisp as heirloom apples,
why isn’t laughter around us
with Autumn expressing herself just so,
why am I alone
with a voice shaking towards the bluest of sky,
why, oh why, can’t I fly.
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.
Red
summertime is what I see
old barn needs some red,
some foolish Gen Z said
my response, “wanna bet!”
leave her alone she’s good as she sits,
what a glorious storytime tone this shade of red is.
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.
Desire’s Recapitulation
to admire – positive judgement
assume greatness
adoration – deepened affection
fulfilled within greatness
to consume – accede desire
ravenous acts of duty
obssess – diminish reality
mistreat self
Focus
Our minds are consumed
with a legion of details.
Where to begin deemed
obvious by most,
if you could feel the pulse;
a quickened heartbeat,
you’d know there’s no recovery.
We’re past all that,
bits too forgone to consider,
the beauty lies, quite perfectly
just beyond
and your hands belong there.
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
Made to Display
someone should claim her
take her straight home
pink like cotton candy
and made for a throne
Possible Outstay
baking tradition
cinnamon sugar combo
more eaters needed
home seemingly quietier
woman for hire
Playing Pretend
make believe moment
silly self conversation
popping yellow corn
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
Accessories
a wooden hand cross holds
my hand back; touched
a child’s toy soldier to remind
me daily of him; once protected
a rock from the mountains; pure
joy exists.
Compartmentalized needs.
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 