I want to hold you closer.
You smell of sandal wood
and earth after a summer shower.
Because I breathe you, I don’t need the air
and I know how it feels to swim through stars.
In the muted night we sing our song.
You give me a midnight choir,
I always bring the rain.
In the sweet summer
below the rusty fasteners of
an old swing I pump the air
with the spindly legs of childhood,
dream my wide eyed dreams of whirling
pathways to the beckoning sun.
My heart leaps at the sight of a brilliant
rainbow and with small fingers I reach up
to swathe its colors over a blue palette sky.
Now I know about life, the real truth of it.
Now I know the swing is just freedom.
When I see this suffering of human beings , of children, I wonder where are the philanthropists, the corporations rushing forward to rebuild material structures, The suddenly charitable wealthy doling out millions to reconstruct buildings, I wonder when we lost our priorities, our empathy for humanity.
“How little survives us but words”
Describing his inspirations as a writer, Mr. Plumly told a University of Maryland student journalist in 2009:
“You get a line, you get an image. There is a memory that won’t leave you alone. And then you go after those things. If that’s inspiration, then okay.”
Stanley Plumly, 1940-2019, poet
You are an ache, a throb,
a tremble in my heart.
The stroke of copper lightening.
I have etched you in my lines,
in margins I’ve swathed you
in resplendent hues of color.
Your voice is a tender quake,
your breath a hive of honey.
I am a gentle tug you barely notice,
a fleeting rain shower on a summer day,
the gentle wave washed upon your shore
where I have tethered my soul to yours.
First of all I want to thank Watt at https://sapphire-sky-com.home.blog/2019/04/12/awarded/ for including me in his nominations for the “Versatile Blogger Award”. Most have read his blog and know how incredible his writing is. Thank you so much Watt.
Per the rules I am to expose… tell you some things about myself that you may not know or care to. Here goes:
My past times, other than writing are: painting, swimming, snorkeling, diving in the Florida Keys, traveling,.
As a rule, I don’t participate in Awards but I am honored to join in here. Rather than nominating specific blogs I would like to invite you all to tell us something about yourselves. We would love to know.
Across a velvet backdrop
softly glowing slivers
stream across the heavens,
tapers of candles that wax and wane
with the out-breath of sighs.
In a spectrum they plummet
streaking through darkness to
vanish over mountains or
plunge in to the sea.
You and I are stars,
tumbling spheres of unrest.
Stellar shards held hostage to
the moon until the heat of night
inflames our primal hearts.
Come out…ignite
be the fire.
art by Karol Bak
Mystery solved.
Near the wharf I sit on the damp wall and sip my drink, let my mind slide into a slippery salamander of sea. The moon is a glistening slice of neon, her whisper carries on the wind, “moon child I love you too”. Sinking further in I watch a velvet Osprey swoop my reflection from the silver waves where the sighs of lovers are lost in a monsoon. Old images flicker across my frontal lobe as I liberate sip by sip. That man with the golden veins doesn’t interest me anymore. Maybe later when my pearl skinned body breaks the surface I’ll bring him back again.
Photo by Westergren
