Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
Dock sittingpast midnightparental dronehumming in distance Two silhouetteshaloed in moonlightI lean in, heart poundingyour lips brush my forehead Nothing more…Nevermind! I blurtscrambling to leave rejection a soul tattoo (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.Image my own. Care to join me and write about your first kiss?Drop me a link so I don’t miss it.)
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Beneath the willowa young woman dreamsHarlequin romancein hand – portrait ofstormy-eyed perfection Innocence luxuriatesin spicy dreams, awaitslove’s sweeping encounter –hormones not yet bearingthe bruises of disappointment. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
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If I measure progressby “used-to’s”illness and age win I used to play tennisspeed and muscleease of ambition This place, the nexus of how life has changed,teaches me appreciation Frost in my veinspermanent, warmthof memories aglow. (Image my own.Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson)
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Here’s a boy, tenderand raw, heart exposedawkward innocenceblocking intention Here’s a man, fieryeyes, hands coarse,face leather, smokywords coaxing affection Here’s a girl, book smartheart uncertain, romancea fluttery desire, caughtbetween the two, torn The boy averts his eyesfears she’ll see the ragingin his loins, read obsessionin his longing, reject him The man takes her hand,softly traces […]
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Waves lap in rhythm with my heartmidnight sky bewitches, stars sing,hand-in-hand our spirits soarpulses dancing to the seductionof love’s enchantment – Tonight the ambiance possesses ustonight boundaries have no holdwe are moon-crazed innocencewarmed by mysterious stirringssand shifting beneath naked soles. (For Eugi’s Causerie Weekly challenge: bewitched. Image my own.)
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Youth flaunts her truthserious in convictions –that eternity existsthat words carry worth Folly naturally succeedsbreak down – inevitablethe opportunity to learn –silent, age considers action. (Image mine)
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Summer of ’67 British invasion Canada claiming 100 – Dad arrives home in a powder puff blue convertible. Back seat sisters long hair flapping bellowing along with 8-track tunes: Loving Spoonful “Do you believe in magic?” I, barely nine idolizing a sister sixteen – a model with go-go boots and hippie style Cottaged at Sauble […]
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We laid beneath the stars our youth tingling, dared to dream cosmic – Thought I landed in love’s lap, till summer waned and you were gone, carried by the wind, my heart in your pocket. (This poem appears in the VSS365 Anthology, untitled)
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Majesty is a tree quiet strength and vulnerability no more sheltered from acts of nature than I – none impenetrable, although youth believes it – days when strength equates with rigidity, resistant arrogance A right fighter, was I, iron will, in control – never measuring up such foolish nonsense – destructive, no doubt, took illness […]
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When you were Eden, that longest prairie night, warm with verdant moss on trunk, no soft cover, river shine vivid – Me, a bee, would eat from a tree berry, seed this animal nature, stroll a watery song – Soon they come at dawn, give peace. (Another poem courtesy of online magnetic poetry.)
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