Jasper

I remember Jasperhow we drove upin that bolt bucketdrank grape sodafrom the dime storelistening to Dylan How the mountainsechoed our lonelinessthe answers we soughtturning us inside out –I dream of it still. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @VjknutsonArt mine – an early attempt at watercolour)

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Syntax

Trade you an ‘n’for a ‘v’, I saidto the moonto the sunto the birdat my window All obligedand nowmy lonely dayis lovely,lovely,lovely. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @VjknutsonArt my own.)

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Pestilence

Words, like cricketsleap from my mindchirping pests whosetrajectory eludesdulled reflexes,scuttling aboutperiphery of logic Harmless, really,in the singular –cacophony of multitudesthreatening to multiplytake with themsemblance of sanity Intuit a rhythmI counsel selfto define the notes in workable phrasescapture essenceand reason message but the invadersadverse to linearitydisappear beneaththe floorboardsof my conscious mind. (Found this poem, languishing in […]

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Mischievous

I like to wear garlicwhen creating art –keeps the demonsfrom taking part Days I forgetperspective lost –whirlwind of inkquite deceptive (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @VjknutsonArt my own)

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Sorcery

I didn’t steal the moon!The tone is lackadaisicalbut the sky incision bearsan uncanny resemblanceto her handiwork – evenstitches, gossamer threads-the sorceress has gone too far. (A whimsical poem borrowed from Twitter @Vjknutson.Art my own)

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Heron Reflection

Silent as the Great BlueAutumn hues creepshifting the landscapealtering my mood. Do feathers quiverat the ensuing chillor is it merely humanthis seasonal affect? (Heron Reflection first appeared here August, 2019.Image my own.)

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Colouring You Purple

I am colouring you purplefor the sacredness of your beingfor the majesty of your soul I am colouring you purplefor the joy that you spreadfor the laughter we share I am colouring you purplefor purple best expressesthe depth of my love. (For my granddaughters. Art my own.Colouring you Purple previously appearedon onewomansquest. com)

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Yet, I Plod On

Tectonic, the forcerequired to movethis wall of shame Erasable, the missivesI write to defend my worth –pencil strokes that only mock Unsustainable, the hopethat life should ever receivemy efforts as more than folly. (Art my own)

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Open To Healing

Open to healing –create a space for inspirationdelve into the subconscious Enter with pure intentionsignore limited capabilities –no offerings are meager – Embrace new startswith faith in ability –be spurred into action Self holds the answerscreative expression is key –no expertise required. (Open to Healing first appeared here in August, 2015. Edited for this post. […]

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Passionate

I am woman questing… a warriorslashing bondsof painful past an aerialistbalancing strifewith fleeting bliss a she-reptileshedding distrustin vulnerability, growing I push throughthe tangled mazeof personas, seek a truth that frees my spiritand roots my essenceinto blessed being For I am womanwith a quest…striving on… (Art my own. I call her The Mother Tree)

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