I called you.
That one time.
Poured my heart out..
such despair.
I called you.
You weren’t there.
Left a message –
garbled words
rushed to beat
the inevitable beep.
Regret immediate,
then panic –
ineradicable
this outpouring
of a lonely heart,
fantasizing.
I called you.
You didn’t answer.
You never called back.
Thank you for that.
(Poem first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II. Image my own)
Soon, Winter will seal decay
beneath snowy banks
and we’ll plant ourselves
hearth side, aiming for fortitude
I shall middle myself amid
books and paints, soldier
through the desolation,
mourn for Summer’s loss.
(Image my own)
At my core, fire –
ego driving passion’s flow –
yet, it’s calm I crave
tranquil waters, petal soft
calm – solace from the burning.
(Image my own)
Unshakeable blue
I am ocean drawn
willing movement
suspended…
Fears meet me here
at the blackened shore
I want to believe
trust the light…
But legs no longer carry me
and heaven forbid the tide
should bring unruly waves –
drowning would be inevitable
So, I hug the shore
hold my breath
and dream of
a more forgiving blue.
(Inspired by Sadje’s challenge: What do you see? based on featured image.)
Pretty lacks commitment..
“I’m pretty sure…”
“Such a pretty ____”
It doesn’t mitigate sorrow
or revel in depths
Flavourless is pretty
a hollow word
Even less profound
when paired with nice.
(Image my own creation)
Light accentuates…bedazzles
transforms ordinary into magical
slips beneath the shadows…
and glows fantastic.
(Borrowed from One Woman’s Quest II. Image my own)
The lines blur
between narrator
and reader
Each pang
a further melding
Reason, I’m such a fan.
(Image my own. Reading anything good lately?)
How is it that a rose understands
secrets buried deep ?
That softness of hue,
and hardiness of bearing
Can elicit such sentiment,
unleash nostalgic ache?
(Image my own. No reading today, as I have COVID and my voice is suffering)
Sentence and paragraph
insufficient vehicle
for processing grief
Words, like miniature life rafts
waft in and out of misery’s depths
begging for release
As if a damn has broken
and the flood of emotion
will settle for nothing less
than poetic expression.
(Image my own)
(Another poem written for Twitter. Image my own)
One Woman's Quest 