Phase

evening moom

In viewing me, you cannot see the sum of all my parts;

Your eyes can only scan my skin, they can’t discern my heart.

For as the moon in mystery is shrouded from our gaze,

What we observe in others is but one nocturnal phase.

Keep this in mind if others show a less than stellar frame –

Character is more than what one action can proclaim.

As Mistress Moon evolves each night, her beauty ebbs and wanes,

We cannot judge our neighbour’s heart by what his face contains.

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Tough Love

crust

 

A stiff upper lip

Hides the tender wounds beneath;

Love will melt your heart

Summer Love

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Softer than an infant’s cheek,

gentler than a summer rain,

more graceful than a woodland creek,

more mystery than curving lane,

your steadfast love entreats and charms,

pursues my heart with winsome ways;

my heart, a rosebud in your arms,

blushes beauty at your gaze.

Hide

peonyblush.jpg

 

Life taught her well –

hide beneath pretty

packaging, paint sleeves

pink like brittle

.

fingernails to ward

off the curious

and offer a semblance

of heart without

.

engagement. Scars

mean band-aids,

amateurish wrappings

to disguise the terror

.

of being known, the

risk of offering her

self and finding that

she is not enough.

Let Me In

asparagus.jpg

Serrated plates,

rows of overlapping scales

went out with the disappearance of the dinosaurs,

died on a Medieval joust;

discard the armour.

Little one,

precious child,

let Me in.

Hearts of Stone

rock.jpg

Hearts of stone cannot bleed;

aortas and ventricles

clog and contort,

but will not spill their precious cargo.

 Hearts of stone

may be islands,

coastlines of security for the soul interred –

but do not good bedfellows make.

Hearts of stone

do not conform to spooned softness

or adapt to reaching arms;

they will not break for others

or drive change in the leaking.

Better to bleed,

spill,

beat fast with the pain,

than to remain

a stone.