Stars |
FIAT | |
Fingering the keys of time, | |
I try to shape thoughts | |
And place them on | |
The screen of life. |
Smiles are twinkling | |
stars of happiness | |
in the sparkling | |
light of God's joy. |
Unfolding | |
unfolding in the mist | |
of a crystalline moon | |
their lies a flower. . . | |
a secret whisper that grows | |
in the emerald grass | |
of an enraptured dream | |
and the gleam of invisible hopes | |
until it fades | |
...imperfect | |
in the pool | |
of morning’s regretful light. |
The bright glow of sunshine | |
among leaves intertwines, | |
casting small shadows | |
under soft rainbows, | |
removing the clouds | |
of pain, which enshrouds | |
our lives in gloom | |
leaving joy no room | |
in which to cheerfully abide | |
except for the confines | |
of a coffin. |
Ribbons | |
ribbons of color rise | |
out of gray clouds | |
to form | |
a delicate rainbow | |
which fades | |
into lacey blue | |
strands of sky |
Flying | |
Stars shed shimmering light | |
upon a watery sky | |
as a lone tear falls from | |
the solitary cloud above, | |
breaking the embrace | |
of rippling reflections | |
and I dip my broken wing | |
in the stream of dreams | |
and rise to meet | |
. . . eternity |
Italian | |
Fingers and hands, | |
postures and expressions, | |
join in the artful dance | |
of communication. |
It’s the fun | |
It’s the fun | |
in playing | |
with letters | |
which causes | |
random acts of joy | |
to be | |
let loose | |
in ink. |
Words | |
Joyfilled days fly off the page | |
Then quickly they change | |
to scary nights | |
and hurtfilled fights | |
to cherished dreams | |
and monotony. | |
Onward still the words go by | |
big and small they catch my eye. | |
Some are bleary unshaped marks | |
while others’ meanings are quite stark. | |
They captivate me and pull me in | |
they stir emotions from within. | |
Others bore me and put me to sleep | |
or run together in a heap. | |
Within them is a hidden meaning | |
with my task to do the gleaning. | |
So here I sit with book open wide | |
trying to decipher what’s inside. |
Daddy | |
A child falls and scrapes her knee | |
crying, hurting can’t anyone see? | |
Then she hears that welcome sound | |
from her Daddy whose love abounds. | |
“Come to me dear child for a hug | |
I see you are in need of love.” | |
He hugs her tight and soothingly says, | |
“I’ll love your forever. I’ll love you always.” |
A rainbow is | |
an upside down smile | |
which sparkles on | |
the tears | |
of the storm. |
Desolate | |
shadows | |
of sorrow | |
are replaced | |
by golden | |
sunbeams | |
of joy | |
bringing | |
the shine | |
of sunrise | |
to the dullness | |
of darkened night. |
Sidewalk | |
Even though you seem | |
unbreakable, | |
cold, | |
and lifeless | |
there are tiny cracks | |
where shoots | |
of life | |
peek through. |
Soft petals | |
of gentle flowers | |
touch our hearts | |
and bring us peace. |
Pleasant dreams of | |
joy-filled days | |
are seen in | |
peaceful smiles | |
of sleepy children | |
innocently resting | |
on soft little blankets | |
scattered ‘round | |
the quiet room. |
Clouds of silver drift | |
in the sky, | |
aglow with gentle light | |
twinkling stars have scattered. |
Haiku Attempts: | |
Invigorating, | |
cool breeze of early morning. | |
A mask of sorrow. | |
Rain, falling softly | |
shatters as it strikes the ground; | |
The sun brings rainbows. | |
Exhausted voices | |
reflect, conceal and impair. | |
Children still smile. | |
Creamy white petals | |
floating delicately down. | |
Descend, butterfly. | |
Black and orange petals | |
drifting my way in silence | |
Come close butterfly. | |
Flimsy shadow shapes | |
drifting, blocking, concealing | |
Life's ever changing. | |
Shadows demarcate | |
zones where light does not exist | |
But, darkness will shift. | |
Swift antelope race | |
sleek in never lapsing gait | |
...nimble footed grace. | |
Tiny little legs | |
climbing upward through the air | |
Sturdy thread of life. | |
Tiny dew droplets | |
reflecting rainbows of light | |
Darkness has ended. |
The clouds let loose | |
little drops of rain | |
to wash away pain | |
and give everything life, | |
fresh and new. |