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You were a bright star
In the darkest sky
You were the red tulip
Among the garden's flowers
Every society or circle
Was proud to have you
It was not a surprise
Many were envious of you
They told lies and gossips
In every chance they had
They finally could succeed
In disgracing you anyway
All those liars and gossips
They were in my favour
I could prove myself as
The only honest lover
All other lovers of you
Judged by ears and eyes
I, in contrast to them
Used just my heart's eye
Ears and eyes on the head
Could sometimes be deceived
But who can see and hear
By heart, never gets lost
Beautiful poetry …
There is a walk I know, among the trees
How much you always loved the solitude
The dry, fallen leaves cracking beneath our feet
An overcast afternoon, fleeting warmth as the sun
Wove through the clouds overhead
The fall colors, which you couldn’t stop talking about
You always had a way of looking at things
As if for the first time
We’d sit there, beside the creek
Because there’s always a creek in my dreams
Sipping water, eating grapes, maybe strawberries
As you reach in your backpack
Surprise me with a chunk of banana bread
You made the night before, for our special day
A simple reminder, to never let go of these moments
Because for all the broken promises, things left unsaid
This is all that really matters in the end
A walk in the woods, sitting by a creek on a fall afternoon
Eating smashed banana bread with…
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Summer scatters her shades
in daring colors of red and green
asymmetrical patterns splayed
over fledgling birds taking wing
above silent fields and late blooms
of lilac the deep blush of peony
clinging to a bowing trellis.
A flicker of burnished feathers
dripping with dew flitting above
rolling wheat fields.
Bowed stalks laden with crusty leaves
tender stems beaten to the soil
in need of assurance
the promise of rebirth.
Nights while you sleep my lips are so close I can draw your breath in like an infant at its mother’s breast. I run my fingers down the curve of your spine leaning in to inhale the scent of your body. I have entered that golden part of you, immersed the sea that claimed me in oceans of fiery sunsets. When our hearts grow mute we will know we we have drifted too near the sun.
art by Karol Bak
In honor of the fallen … lest we forget
I step back from the light
into life’s darkness
after my death
my wife rocks
herself to sleep
in my favorite chair.
On the beach
I want to fly but fall like
a silent prayer.
My limbs are an anchor
as I slip beneath the surface.
Once struggling palms lie flat
as gentle waves rock me.
Seaweed strands of hair mingle
with the sigh of my breath,
I grasp the hands of my
my only thing of value.
Everything beautiful is here,
all that was lost.
Birds chorus to the stones that
mark the resting place of a
thousand warriors at peace in an
estuary of flowers.
art by Abel Tasman
From the past I capture a light,
bring forward a globe of fire reflected
in the irides of my eyes
or an ocean pooling in my palm.
My nights are the darkest psalms,
your memoir etched into my heart.
One tender sway and suddenly I
Photography by Billy Knight
at the razor edge of madness,
the fierce break of waves
along the shore line.
In dark eyes that catch mine
in dusty corridors of dreams.
I feel you in the wild of wolves
the vigil of birds at my
in the sacred dust of bones.
Le Femme en Rouge
Folded beneath white caps
shards of crystals stack in layers.
Seaweed tentacles abandon their grip,
letting go of their bed they are
swept away by the tide snared by sea oats
stranded in the dunes.
A shroud of melon melts down the vista.
Seafaring specters bob in the distance
drifting apparitions that vanish
in the haze, lost to the horizon.
Seagulls hover between sea and sky,
wingtips graze the watery glass,
skimming, plunging, their throaty caws
console the lonely sea.