Shadows in Her Eyes

Painting 1

Painting by Betty Sanders

 

Shadows in Her Eyes

She opened up the window leaning arms upon the sill
Gazing down the street for what’s been lost
Twilight of the morning only shadows in her eyes
From dreams she left behind on roads she’s crossed

The rain had come and gone before the blush of dawn’s first light
Drops of endless thirst left on the vine
Footprints neath the window leading cross the rusted rails
From hearts with tattered strings that intertwine

Weathered wood… the shotgun house… ravages of time
Pearls of dew on lilacs near the door
She learned to leave to destiny the rhymes she could not change
But kept her secrets safe beneath the drawer

Never did her passion let her lose her faith in love
Never did she rue the star crossed child
Never did one fail to ask if life had done her wrong
But she’d just turn her head… and softly smile

Michael33

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Dust on the Parchment

Dust on the Parchment 1

Dust on the Parchment

I suppose I could write of the newborn spring
Of the daffodils…
Of the sparrows wings
But who would then write of the broken heart
The lonesome dove
When lovers part

I suppose I could write of lavender blooms
Of a soft gentle breeze
The scent of perfume
But who would then write of things gone wrong
Of the pouring rain
Of sad, sad songs

I suppose I could write of the runes on the wall
When rhymes were like crystal
In times we were small
But who then would write of the words tween the lines
Hidden in lamplight
In laughter and wine

I never should write of the truth in her heart
The light in her eyes
Fore it all fell apart
But who then would write from the blind poet’s pen
With dust on the parchment
To dust in the wind

by Michael33

Not Exactly Evolutionary

Not Exactly Evolutionary

Not Exactly Evolutionary

(A Message from the Universe)

I cracked through the shell from the inside out
Looked around at the world and began to shout
You’ve got to be kidding I asked of the muse
This isn’t my home and I’m somewhat confused

I crawled to the ocean to find my old friends
But breathing neath water had come to an end
I crawled on all fours till I came to the timber
But found nothing there that could help me remember

I climbed to the top of tall forest trees
Looked around at the world which brought me unease
You’ve got to be kidding I said to the muse
This isn’t my home and I’m still quite confused

I walked on my feet to the banks of the river
The cold winter chill was making me shiver
I made a big fire by rubbing two vines
Then sharpened a spear and learned how to dine

I discovered a woman who tended a grove
Possessing the wonders of great treasure troves
We built a strong hut to escape from the storm
Soon there were three of us cozy and warm

We assembled a village a family a home
Many who wondered then wandered and roamed
We discovered the wheel, built cities and cars
Abandoned our customs stopped following stars

We gathered the money as fast as we could
Polluted our water and cut down the wood
We lied to our brothers and smoked up the air
Lost all compassion for the wolves and the bear

I cracked through the shell from the inside out
Looked at the world in famine and drought
You’ve got to be kidding I said to the muse
This isn’t my home I’m dazed and confused

We were the chosen to care for the Earth
Through eons of time from the first human birth
We’ve taken this world on a dangerous route
Yet we’re still cracking shells from the inside out

Michael33

Buzzards

Buzzards 7

Vehicles were circling my house
Parking both sides of the street
The people were silent and solemn
I pulled up a chair for a seat

My first thought was maybe I died
Then remembered I have few friends
Especially the one that parked in my drive
Drivin that Mercedes Benz

There’s really just one explanation
I don’t understand being dead
I must have mistaken the people and cars
When they’re really just buzzards instead

Michael33

Just a little ‘sick’ humor to brighten your day

Secrets of the Sphere

Secrets of the Sphere

Secrets of the Sphere

I wandered through the streets
As if I knew where I was going
But I had no destination yon the fear
I listened to the sparrow
With the wisdom of a sage
Then I simply turned around and disappeared

I wandered through my life
As if I knew the right direction
But I had no incarnations that were clear
I listened to the ravens
That had gathered neath the willows
Who gave to me the secrets of the sphere

I wandered in the twilight
As if I knew the way back home
But I had no validation night or day
I listened to the voices
Till their whispers cleared my mind
Then I turned into the clouds and walked away

Michael33

Copyright © 2019

It’s Early… as of Late

It's Early as of late

It’s Early as of Late

It’s early
As of late
This time I couldn’t wait
For that light across the hillside
Where I roam
It’s later
Than you think
And I’m nearly out of ink
But I’m far too many miles
Away from home

In the silent
Speed of sound
I turned the ship around
And headed for her footprints
Long the shore
Neath the shadows
Of the light
Doesn’t matter
What I write
For I’ve far too many bones
Beneath the floor

It’s there tween
Day and night
In the grey tween
Black and white
But the ink will only smear
Beneath the rain
It’s calm
Inside the storm
Where the ocean floor
Is warm
But parchment wouldn’t wrinkle
On the train

It’s early
As of late
Perhaps it’s left to fate
For I can smell the flowers
Where I roam
It’s later
Than you think
And I’m nearly out of ink
And I’m far too many miles
Away from home

Michael33

Copyright © 2019

It’s Personal

It's Personal 1

It’s Personal

Never wanted in the limelight
Nor to stand beneath the floodlights
Though the moonlight
Always gave me silver wings
Never wanted in the crowd
Nor to be round those too loud
Though I love symphonic sounds
On silver strings

Never liked to hear the liars
Nor those who left me in the fire
Though the entire
Human race once let me down
Never longed too much for fame
Nor to play the perfect game
Though it’s really all the same
Until you drown

Never have I known the king
Nor danced the night with doxy queens
Though twice I broke a wing
While climbing twine
Never did the sparrow know
Nor bluebirds dancing in the snow
Though it’s always musing crows
That write the rhyme

Michael33