in progress
that winter sunday
light shattered the icy sorrow
with beauty and joy
and words that awakened sleeping stars
though monday brought
a month buried under slumbering
sheets of uncertainty.
time passed and
the eclipsed moon hidden
revealed a blue moon,
tomorrow's dream unveiling,
while a strong north breeze
stole in
caressing my neck with its chilly breath,
promising a new melody.
fields of yesterday's oat crops
gone, let go, released to a grassy green hill of dandelions.
the lilacs withered
and the morning glories faded with the western sun;
they became earth and fed
the meadows of bright poppies,
meadows that whisper for
dawn's unassailed morn.
that winter sunday
light shattered the icy sorrow
with beauty and joy
and words that awakened sleeping stars
though monday brought
a month buried under slumbering
sheets of uncertainty.
time passed and
the eclipsed moon hidden
revealed a blue moon,
tomorrow's dream unveiling,
while a strong north breeze
stole in
caressing my neck with its chilly breath,
promising a new melody.
fields of yesterday's oat crops
gone, let go, released to a grassy green hill of dandelions.
the lilacs withered
and the morning glories faded with the western sun;
they became earth and fed
the meadows of bright poppies,
meadows that whisper for
dawn's unassailed morn.
2 comments:
there is beauty here, and truth, and all manner of wonders contained in these well-tempered words. What else needs be said?
she's a poet, that lady.
Post a Comment