Grief rolls
In sometimes
Waves
Crashing
Onto the shore
Of memory
Unrelenting
In its anguish
But, many times
Its laps gently
Up against
Smiling reminders
Of its receipt
This tax of love
We all must pay
Is sometimes
Worth the cost
To watch a day
Turn into night
And wait
The darkness
Before the waves
For dawn
To come again.
Listless on the breeze
Beneath birds’ wing
Love flutters
More like a butterfly
Casual in its aimlessness
It wanders into the branches
Of a sycamore tree
Perched right
Outside the window
Well within a glance
It idles, wings breathing
In the sunlight
Waiting
On the other side
Of in between
The glass
Just outside this room.
…and like a lazy
Falling snow
The grief descends
Softly into
Melancholy
Laying quiet,
Gently, and cold
This blanket
Covers summer’s
Dreams turned
Brittle and fallen
As is the inevitable
When the seasons
Change
When life rescinds
It’s cheerful colours
May I might
Just linger
In this crisp
Reminder
Just a while longer
Spring will come
But this process
Needs your
Winter mourning.
As I pull
My collar up
To face the cold
The smell of snow
Hangs crisply
In the air
I bundle dreams
Of you close
To keep me warm
Against the storm
After all,
If winter will be cold
She may as well
Be beautiful
So cover our bones
In frozen blankets
And let these thoughts
Of you freeze
And stay with me
Just a little
While longer.
With every
Brush stroke
She painted
My fascination
In black and white
Somehow brighter
She added red
So I bled for her
In the silence
Of a metaphysical
Poet
But then I saw
Her caramel eyes
And the poetry
Became prose
And the prose
Became poetry
And I found
Myself upside down
And drowning
In the impossibility
Of her.
Poet still growing and learning how to share. Educator. All things Paranormal. 80’s horror. Puck. Music. Say hi, I’ll say hi back.