Tag Archives: Beauty

Stardust

If we are all stardust,

why then must we fret

over what constellation

we find ourselves

striving to shine in?

Does not each star,

added to the glory of the night sky,

make its tapestry all the more

brilliant,

all the more

beautiful?

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Fish Crow

It landed on a small and flimsy tendril of tree

The weight of her causing limb to sway; a swing

Caught spying a mystery to far to contemplate

she took wing, her fingers stretched out in prayer

to the invisible breath of gods

gracefully, willfully, and without regard to

my spying

Leapt and dove beyond the fence

of self made boundaries; seeing no more.

Linger

Linger in the after-thought
a prick after the pain
find gold in glimpse of velvet tears
slipping in the guise of rain
pause in breath to breathe in
fragrance fading fast
embrace the night
to wish on stars
who clearly have not fallen yet
watch memory long since forgot
‘cross an ocean of
favors, scents, and fictions
casting lots for your
attention
like constellation
chasing after constellation
or how the skin of moon
knows the sun
this
this is where I live
and if this be where I must die
my cup shall fill
with an abundance
few ever know the pleasure
of or ever
realize.

Eglantine Embrace

Fashion for me a kiss

Wood-Sorrel shower

Acacia calling

Bachelor button Balm

Slip over Dragon Root

Edelweiss and

Water Lilly Mum

Into Viscaria

Vervain of Violet

Velerian

and place upon my brow,

Periwinkle Phlox Nasturtium

Nosegay Nightshade Osmunda.

Sunday

Hours

paint a picture of movement.

Yet, I sit still

watching paws tumble

over yarn and clammor after

stray bug bold enough to venture here

Page and cover linger near

begging to sate my appitite

Playing cards remain in boxes

Bills remain unopened

and unpaid – demandingly

set on the top of a pile;

papers unwritten, unread.

un un un

…  We all sit here

still

contemplating the pigment of time

as it meanders forward unaware of the

last brushstroke

content to just

breathe

Sunday.

What if

… the world was a word
and the word was on your lips
would it taste of sweet cantaloupe
or persimmon’s emerald kiss?
Would it laugh at languishing in reds
and paint the world in crims’n
or prone to lavish simplicities
of diamond coated sins?
Would it be a lamprophony
of canter calling crows
or be silent as the barren wood
to slip where silence dare not go?
What if, my love, the world were I
and I of lashing dreams?
would I sate your soul
o’er lip, and tongue and cheek
to disolve in utter bliss
thine appentency.