Monday, April 30, 2012
I am writing this poem for O.S.I. and the theme is elusive.
Large and yet elusive
Who is your maker?
What is your mind?
Where is your heart?
So full of wonder
And full of darkness
That springs to life
Only in full light
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
I am writing this poem for O.S.I. and the theme is verdant.
I thought the sign of spring
Would bring you home to me
I thought the fragrant grass
Would be too intoxicating
And the buds awakened
Be too illuminating
And sighs of birds in love nests
Be too exhilarating
Yet the emptiness of your touch
Is such that I do not look for signs
I pray only that the wind
Will bring you to me
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
The recent heat wave has me daydreaming about the beach. This week's theme at O.S.I. is shell.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Here is a freestyle poem I recently penned. Hope you enjoy.
We are not fit to pick brother says
We are not fit to pick
I listen until his voice trails in the sky
I am broken open by wisps of blue
As pockets of clouds curtsy
We are frightened the children
Will smash our canary yellow faces
And snowy white petals
That surrounds us like lion’s mane
I close my eyes and pray
A child will pick the petals
From my fragile body
And blow me towards the sky
To a heaven only I see
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
I was both inspired and intrigued by this week's O.S.I. word Wassail. Hope you enjoy my poem!
I am present in the sky
Just me alone drinking in divine
Close my eyes
Feeling the cloud’s tendrils
Pass me in the wind
And I drink it in
Flurries of pink and plum
Down the yellow rim
Sipping the darkness
Emptying sunset’s glass
Sunday, April 8, 2012
I am sending you all Easter blessings today and a short story I recently penned. Hope you enjoy!
It was rumored that a family of rabbits had made their new residency in the old abandoned church on Oak Hill. The grass had knelt down reverently under the burnt shade of endless summers. The tree too grew sleepy and rested its branches against the roof.
People had abandoned church and instead chose to acknowledge God with silent nods and glances toward the sky. Their heads and hearts were filled with city cares and daily life. Only when the old were buried did the masses pass quietly by the abandoned church on Oak Hill.
When it was rumored four footed creatures made their homes between the pews, some youth gathered beneath the church’s weary yellow awning. They gawked inside its murky glass windows for signs of bunny ears. They longed for the revelation of thumping feet. Perhaps it had been a hoax or a pastor’s tale to lure them back into church.
The children scattered to feed their bellies and play until sunset. All except Harris and Lana who were transfixed by the sunlight’s web against the door.
“Is it a sign,” Lana gasped. There remained something pious in her voice. Something wild and adventurous leapt from Harris eyes to his lips.
“Let’s go inside,” he dared. She hesitated at the thought of trespassing but acquiesced. Perhaps there is life in there, she smiled.
The old, carved doors whistled open upon their touch. It was as if someone was beckoning them inside. The pews were changing from decayed stone to polished wood again. The walls were growing vines and the ground sprang up lush meadows for flowers to nestle upon.
Harris looked at Lana in disbelief. “Do you see this,” he asked, and she gave an awestruck nod.
Then their ears heard the crunching of tiny feet on grass. A rabbit gawked at them with her coal, dark eyes. Her fur was white and speckled in brown like one of the old cows in their children’s books. Harris extended his arm toward the rabbit but Lana scolded him.
“You’ll scare her,” she whispered. But the rabbit froze like stone. She wrinkled her nose before hopping forward. Both took it as a sign to follow her and found the spot where her young were sleeping. Their skin was fragile and pink bathed in a ray of sunlight.
“Babies,” Lana squealed. “I always wanted a baby rabbit.”
“Rabbit thief,” Harris charged. Lana blushed but Harris squeezed her hand as both knelt beside the rabbit family humbled by an Easter surprise.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
I am writing a poem for O.S.I and this week's theme is inbox.
Pamper yourself ~ 75% off all luxury items
Contour beauty ~ 60% off cosmetics
Reveal your sultry goddess ~ 50% off all goods
Her eyes fell into the void
Of offers from an inbox
Promising her happiness
Delete key at her fingertips
Smoothing her long black hair
Her mother’s ribbon smelled of orchards
The only thing she needed to feel beautiful