The small lake shimmers with light
reeds rustle beneath
the feet of a fawn
leaning forward her pink tongue
curls backward
spattering the sweetness of life
into her nose and eyes
spotted ears pull sideways
heeding the sigh of the forest
the breath of a breeze
the kiss of sunlight transforms
autumn gold to green
beyond the edge of the wood
fall collides with spring
in tender places of the wild
Do No Harm
is A child that looks out
from eyes that weep diamonds
or liquid fire spills from the curve of her lip
burns trails down her cheeks
those voices inside roll in on waves
of ocean-like silence from the pit of her belly
(is that possible?)
cold clouds rain down from some god-forsaken
depth that like the tender touch of heartbreak
pleads come and rest.
Photographer unknown, public domain
Clarence isn’t the first to need to lie down after enjoying my cooking. I hope I baked enough. Everyone says I did. ❤️
The guests have arrived and the Chicklet Valentine’s Day Party has officially begun. Clarence was in charge of setting up Holly’s Corn bread treats for an after breakfast snack. Unfortunately, Clarence decided to taste test the corn bread and couldn’t seem to control himself.
When interviewed for The Coop newspaper, he simply chirped, “It was just so delicious, what else could I have done?” Everyone understood his dilemma and a meeting was held where a rule was passed, saying that no one could be in charge of food products alone. At least two beings would have to be present for the set-up.
Everyone felt much better after that. The good news is that Holly made enough corn bread for everyone, so no one will go without a slice, or two.
Deep as the Mariana Trench
The finest opus of Nightingales
A paradise where birds
sip nectar from petals that
unfurl just for you
Let me leave my mark
Roses beneath the snow
Lovers
Caught in a mock sinners lullaby
Pexel.com
Dearest Resa, you brilliant super nova, how do I thank you for all the fun and wonderful friendship that we share. This, completely unexpected, blows me away. Thank you my friend and favorite co-conspirator! You are Awesome ❤️
Holly, as Rene Rosso; drawn to 3 hours of Janis Joplin.
Good evening! Welcome to ABouquet of Holly. I’m AGM Marina, your host for this Art Gowns Special.
It all began when Resa wanted to say Thank you to Holly for posting a Cheetah Girls video. Click on the pic of my new gown (above) and visit the post!
Resa (One-Eye) is ever thankful to Holly – House of Heart for all the inspiration over the years, and quite frankly it’s about time that a gala event was held in her honour.
Yes, Resa wrote that poem, for Holly. Not quite the same as a Holly poem, but still delivers a heartfelt message.
When I was asked to host, I immediately thought of two gifts, two paintings for Holly.
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♥️
Fae is going to be the emcee for the show. This morning, she was standing on stage, in front of the empty barn, practicing her opening lines. Two of the Stage Craft chicklets said she was wonderful.
Because of the weather forecast, some of the guests will be arriving early, so the Housekeeping Committee is exceptionally busy. All in all, they are on top of things and there are hearts popping up everywhere.
On sleepless nights
I stroll the left bank in sequined heels
My Eyelids heavy with smoky glitter
Among the art I find you
Your essence pierces my veins
Settles in the pool of my heart
Dim lights flicker their last warning in
the cafe where like willows we sway
To long forgotten love songs
Then you are gone never hearing Je t’aime
the only French I know.
Mark Spain Art
“Je t’aime, Je t’aime (lyrics by Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin)
“I love you
Like a fool like a soldier
Like a movie star
I love you I love you
Like a wolf like a king
Like a man that I am not
I love you like that”
The blue sky has acquiesced to cold grey arches.
There is little tending to severed leaves detached
by laws of seasons past.
What remains is a collection of treasures stacked
behind a dozing spider, clay pots, a rusty kiln, worn brushes.
Warm breath on sculptor’s bones ease her aching hands
until she is malleable once more.
Bent and shaped into her own likeness
if she is diligent in the Spring she will bloom again.
Translation by Bernd Hutschenreuther
Im Frühling werden wir wieder blühen
Der blaue Himmel hat die
kalten grauen Bögen angenommen.
Wenig nur neigt er, sich
trauernder Düsternis zu ergeben,
Wir fallen von den Bäumen,
getrieben vom Gesetz der Jahreszeiten,
der Vergangenheit entfliehend, getrennt von
der Gegenwart.
Unser Schicksal ist die harte Erde,
Wir sind der Sonne verloren.
Eine düstere Sammlung vergessener Schätze.
Sie greift nach den Tontöpfen
und der dösenden schwarzen Witwe
Auf der Suche nach einer abgenutzten Säge, rostigem
Draht und Zedernholz.
Ihre Hände bluten und welken,
ist sie fleißig, werden wir erneut blühen,
im Frühling.
Übersetzung: Bernd Hutschenreuther
art by Themes.com “Summer leaves”
Drawn by the pull of possibility
I am at war with resistance
tempted by persuasion and the
dynamic momentum of hands
on taut shoulders
the gravitational press on tangled
knots and willowy limbs that succumb to
a black spell night
your kiss is kindle igniting
the perfect fire
Come dawn I am a periwinkle
at your pillow
tender petals bending to what
is golden.
art by Andre Belinchenko
