Birth of a Bouquet

Royal Lace Lily

 

Purity meets Grace

Romance blossoms overnight

Innocence is born

**************

In honour of our world’s precious children 

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Courting Disaster

Morden Blush rose

She’s courting Disaster – slicked

down hair, reptilian smile,

morals twisted like the coils

of a rattler. She treasures

her trinkets and calls herself

‘Loved’ by virtue of their sheer

volume, dreaming of white lace

and cooing progeny while

he plunders her dignity,

moonlight carnivore thirsty

for flesh. She dates Denial,

but she’s courting Disaster…

My First Poetic Birthday!

Sky Window

Inscription to Evil

Your eyes perceived the offering –

ripe suckling pig offered on ego’s altar.

Fangs tore flesh, and cud was

savoured. Voiceless, innocence burned;

Betrayer invoked betrayal,

tearing fragility whisper-thin.

Blows descending, betrayed shrank into a pit

shame-thick and denial-sunk. Sneering talons clawed

soul. Comatose, Heart beat on.

Shame bled dark on a soul-stain as tearless face

silently screamed. Hope of healing ripped raw the ooze;

Endangered, You clutched the more. Friend

kissed betrayal, marrying decay to heart-stir;

Agony poured fire into fatal wounds.

Battered, Heart beat on.

Soul stirred to staunch the flow

but band-aids bled away. Exhausted, Heart

cried to Healer; Wounded hands

leaked Love! You perceived and trembled,

lost footing, unleashed hell-fury, unwilling to

surrender your masterpiece.

Heart, circulating a blood not its own,

Stretched.

Stood.

Quivered on feet of glass.

Rage-screamed, You roared your hate-stench

but wounded hands held fast.

Gentle-fierce,

life-blood bled into Heart.

Glass feet glowed, diamond-studded in refining blaze.

Heart beat – IthinkIcan, IthinkIcan.

IknowLovecan,  IknowLovecan.

Flying, weightless, treading the wings of the dawn,

Heart  discarded crutch.  Leaped.  Danced.

Alive,  Heart  exhaled, inhaled, filled lungs with sweetness.

And words, flaking off like scales,

indelibly penned Inscription to Evil,

covering scars with skin.

Exactly one year ago today, I posted this poem, my first on this blog which did not start out poetic! It would take several months before I claimed the title of poet. More than 880 poems in the 365 days following this initial offering. I am honoured and humbled by the encouraging response and support of my blogging community, and honoured and humbled that God has blessed me with this gift – what a sweet surprise it has been to see it unveiled, to learn the joy and release of expressing my thoughts in this new form. Today is a day to celebrate – the Voice I lost so long ago has been found, restored, and unleashed!  The power of this miracle takes my breath away…

The Need For Easter

rottensnow.jpg

Ever since you stepped into the Light,

your true colours are leaching out,

bleeding filth onto what you tried to convince yourself

was pure as the driven snow.

Purity

is only relative;

compared to your earth-bound buddies,

you held your mask well.

But meeting Spring has a way of

stripping away the ruse,

the snow job pulling the wool over your own eyes.

Let it go.

Let it melt under these revealing rays;

let all you gripped with such bloodless fingers

soften and dissolve

into the dust it always was.

Only then can you abandon the scam of your innocence

to embrace the singular purity of invisible Light,

Sun whose rays reveal the need

for Easter.

Death to Innocence

Innocence dies on the morrow –

but you don’t need to know that.

The thought of what is to come

would kill you before your time;

no,

you need this night.

You need this moment,

this avenue of secret stillness,

this scented ‘now’ that sweeps away breath

and catches heart in throat to behold.

It is well that

you  will have something to hold on to

when innocence dies.

Until then,

blush

and bloom

and store up dreams

in girlish pockets,

for tonight,

you are

beautiful…