Undisclosed

peach daylily

She envies those with clear complexion,

Bolder lines or styled perfection,

Longs for leaves with different shape,

Curly locks instead of crepe;

She notices when other flowers

Spread their scent in evening hours,

Wishes she could clone the rose,

Or wear the Lady Slipper’s clothes.

She doesn’t see as her eyes wander

Yearning for whatever’s yonder,

She’s been painted, leaf to stem,

In beauty that could rival them.

 

 

Advertisements

The Offer

lavender clematis

Delicate her solemn smile,

Lavender her dreams;

Beneath her skin she hides the pain

That tears apart her seams.

So when you judge her every move

And criticize her ways,

Keep in mind how far she’s come,

And offer her your grace.

The Great Unravelling

egyptian-mummy

Here lies 2018,

behind her glass barrier,

shrouded in mystery. The hand I stretch out

cannot quite hide its tremor. What will I encounter beneath

her folds? Curses or capital, fortune or

fright? Nothing is certain

but the compulsion to peel back

that first layer. Exhilaration battles anxiety. Where to start? There is the smell of death –

but also the tang of adventure and promise of new knowledge about her. And so

it begins.

Each moment, each day, each

month unravels more of her riddles until at last every

secret cavity has been divested of its contents. Some turns of the wrist

will reveal treasures,

things hidden from days of old, joyous to untie. Others

horrify, fill the nostrils with the stench of decay and loss –

even then she demands to be set free of her wrappings

layer by layer, day by day. Until she is free of her casement

the baubles and bones seem disjointed, unrelated,

entries in the catalog to be studied by greater minds. But

after her 365 day burial,

her treasures and triumphs, grievances and gloom

will be placed with care in the display cases of my heart. They are messy,

these artifacts. Random bits of broken pottery,

gems – uncut and unrecognizable,

scarabs encased in amber. When studied,

wrestled with,

polished to reveal their glory,

then and only then will she divulge her beauty. Taken as a

collection,

the years lined up in their coffins give context to my past,

enable me to excavate the Truth of who I am.

Whatever this year hides, this wrapped enigma,

for good or for ill

she is mine to enearth.

My fingers find the tattered fabric

and pull…

Image Copyrighted by Historylink101.com & found at Egyptian Picture Gallery.

Foot Fetish

autumn resting place

Rest, the road exacts its Toll,

Take a load off wearied sole;

Close your eyes and breathe Life in,

Reflect on where your feet have been.

Confident, they marched with ease;

Terrified, ‘neath shaking knees

They stumbled on when doubtful days

Blocked e’en hope’s most brilliant rays.

Pause, let wand’ring feet sit still,

Exhale deep, let lungs refill;

Slow your pace, take time to stroll,

Rest is good for every sole.

Thanksgiving Hymn

looking glass.jpg

For sun above and earth below,

For flowers’ blooms, and rivers’ flow,

For springtime after pristine snow,

Lord, we give you thanks.

For sunshine after timely rains,

For mountain peaks and golden plains,

For air in lungs and blood in veins,

 Lord, we give you thanks.

For tables laid with pumpkin pies,

For elders’ lore, and newborns’ sighs,

For secret looks in lover’s eyes,

Lord, we give you thanks.

For day to work, and night to rest,

For Heaven’s Love on earth expressed,

For all the ways that we are blessed,

Lord, we give you thanks.

 

Delicate Detour

dahlia

 

I pause

mid-stride,

my to-do list caught

in your delicate detour,

fly to your whimsical web.

Task and master flounder,

round ruffled maze-twists;

forgetfulness steals soft

in lemon-drop swirls.

Weeds will wait.

Urgency evaporates

amidst petalled purity;

here is Now,

here is life alive,

painted to mimic sunshine,

so I pause.