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Pieces of sea

Thoughts break carelessly
Sharp edges slide below the surface
Dreams and bits of this and that
Move into the deep
Worn down fragments remain.
Words like shells scattered
Rolling on the floor,
Drifting and dancing
Polished smooth through the years
As tides of life
Move in and out
Carried on currents
Of everyday minutes
Ticking by like
A wave lapping shore.
Skies of blue
Various shades stacked
One atop the next
As we watched the storms come and go
Surrendering to the might and beauty
Of a gift of a day
Pieces of the sea
Glass treasures found and held
In a hand like a gift
Brought home
With pockets full
Of memories.

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Into particulate (time passing)

Broom sweeps dust of years
Carcasses of insect
Leftovers from spiders lair,
Aged sustenance piled
A heap at the feet and I track
Particulate through my movement
No chance to capture the minutiae
As into the light of old windows
I see the time slip by.
Sun shadows grow long
And the scent of age lingers
In the cobwebs that brush my temples
And in the crevices a mouse’s meal
Nested in twigs and folded into the pan
Into the bag carelessly
They go.
I survey the hours spent
Empty boxes burned like the flames
That reach for the sky
Devouring each old bit
Floating to the sky
Black wisps charred
Rising to nestle amongst the green leaves
Then fall soundless back down
To this very ground
Becoming too,
Particulate of years
That disappear into dirt
Swirling below
These tired feet.

Photo found on Internet by: http://sheliamullican.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/sunlight1.jpg

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Words from dust

Nestled in plastic wrapping
Below a stack of not as ancient brethren,
Stitched together
Handmade pages bound
Slipped between leather
Words to dust.
I hold your fragile soul
Gently in my hands
Like a newborn child
Tenderly and with awe and joy.
I turn each page
Losing myself in letters
To who you were
Over a century ago
And I feel the loss through tales told
By friends and acquaintances
Of the life you both lived,
Of the people you had been.
As the ship went down it is told
The choice made to walk into a stateroom
To spend the last moments
Departing together alone
Sharing words of love
I would think, of your life
And the last touch
As you clung together
On your journey home
As one.
A gift I possess
To hold this piece of history
And to discover two new friends
Whose story filters through my thoughts
Leaving me blessed
To be able to be a part of
Holding and delving into
The memory of you.

I found a book, in memoriam to Elbert and Alice Hubbard. I live one town away from where the Roycroft is, founded by Elbert and Alice a hundred plus years ago and they both perished on the Lusitania in the war. To touch the pages handmade so many years ago and read the letters sent after their death and compiled into a loved book. I am filled with joy at being able to learn new things while delving into the history of them both. Quite a joy indeed.
To read more on the two: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elbert_Hubbard
Book looks eerily similar to the photo found at deviant art.

Photo found at: http://th08.deviantart.net/fs4/PRE/i/2004/208/8/2/old_prayer_book_01.jpg

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A jar of gratitude

Shining purple bliss
She gives me a jar
Sparkling in the candlelight
Empty
Waiting
And I shall feed it words
Of gratitude
Filling to overflowing
And when afar
I will treasure each sentence
Each friend along the way
And tomorrow will come
A new package filled
With the bounty of the fields
The nectar of the bees
And the scent of homemade love.
I shall return the filled with words glass
To be treasured by her
Somewhere in my yesterday town,
She will read each sentence
Each dream
My wishes
To truly know
That love indeed
Is all that really matters
But extra special
When made so beautiful
In a lovely lavender jar given
By the heart.

My friend Donna makes organic seasoned nuts and granola that she sells at a local farmers market. She has been a huge godsend these days both as a friend and as confidante, not to mention a rock star helping me setup my garage sale. (Apparently I under price things).She gave me a purple mason jar to take when I move and she will send me another one full of her amazing confections and I am to return the empty one to be refilled. I have decided in the meantime to make it my gratitude jar and fill it with lovely sayings….so when she opens what she thinks will be an empty jar waiting to be refilled, it will overflow with love. Friends are truly a gift and I am sincerely blessed.đź’śđź’ś

Shall I?

Spin words based on images
Of magic and illusion
Of lost moments spent
In independence
As rockets glare against night skies
Where Venus and Jupiter linger
As two?
Shall I weave cloth spun from fabric
Of meshed threads entwined
Built stronger when together
And shall I find photographs
Through memories of events
Of family
Of togetherness
Of yesterday’s now gone
And I shall write a word or two
As eyes drift into thought
At all that is
And of all that will be,
And I stand here against the blue skies
As flags unfurl to the majesty
That crumbles daily
And I hold a candle not yet sold
To this day
This hour
And this minute wondering
What is it all for?
And I will leave the page in a blank state
To be filled at a later date
When I return and find myself
Whole
And not so alone
In the big picture of it all
And I no longer have to wonder
Why?
Where is the peace to be found?

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Venus collides

Between words
And circumstance
The Lightning folds within
Power of destruction,
Endless,
Seemingly close
Yet so very far away
Stars align to form
The abyss of emptiness.
Caught between
As meteors collide,
Lights illuminate
The silky summer skies
And I stand witness
To disruption
As the hourglass trickles
And time runs out
I stand accused
Of nothing
But thoughts unbecoming
Of a soul caught
In your quagmire
Of disruption.

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Encroachment

Words
More words
Wreaking havoc
With a heart adrift.

Pain
Regaled worth
I cannot say
Beyond the margins firmed.

Lost
Thoughts blown,
I cannot help
This overloaded circuit
Like broken fuses meld.

Make it
Take it back
To yesterday again
Whole, complete start now.

Photo by: http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7368/9359771597_986b1d07f7_z.jpg

Little time to write this week….continuing on…..

A heart alive so near to me
A voice from an ocean adrift
Bobbing like bottles
Needing to read
The note within
Meant for me
To set me back
In subtle sanity
Between the anchors
I have no home
Adrift
Afar
And quite alone.
I hear your voice
Miles stretch
Yet it is not you
Just the man behind the curtain
Who leads astray
And I am not blind
Yet,
Pretending to be that way
If that is what
It takes the truth
Defined by love
Oh pity the fool
Thinking otherwise
The drama reigns
The actors on stage
I take a bow….
And walk away.
Exit stage right…..enter storm…..(applause)

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Light thoughts

At night the fireflies come
Waking me from slumber
Cocooned in cotton
As I dreamt of snows that fall
Under the white orb in the distance
Leaving me in thoughts of how
With skies filled with little flakes
So light as they touch down
Can I still see the silver moon.
Flashes of Crystal
Tiny lights meld into a world
Filled with images
Of faerie and scattered speckles
Of a flashing light that calls
Come out to play.
I awoke to find the rain
Slipping down panes in rivers
And I knew I had a dream
As snow was not to be on sultry June nights
And I was happy to see the storm
Carry away my mind to new places
As I felt the warm winds blow from the south
Knowing summer was soon to arrive
Chasing the winter white away
Except for in
Places of dreams.

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What lies below

Flowers adorn this old well
Worn by age and circumstance
Weathered and forgotten
I watch your simplicity
As I wash these dishes,
Beyond the window my nature display
And I know below
The hard fading paint
The gifts you bring forth
With a simple push and pull
The workings plumb the depths
Of the cavernous world
Where water lays.
Yet here I rely on the easy
A pretty handle to bring forth
Making colored bubbles from soap
As the sunlight pours in
And I go about my task
Lost in reveries
Of all that lies below
From thoughts to dreams
Wishes and needs
As the water runs through my fingers
And the gentle flowers blow
In the quiet whisper of wind
And the old pump just waits
To be used once more.

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Dream ceilings

Oh sweet skies above
Dappled with clouds moving
Running like a painted pony
Across the blue.
Hues of dreams held in memory
Hovering like the ceiling
Cosmic stars like stickers
Glowing above a child’s head
Lulled to sleep with visions
Of new worlds.
Swirling like a storm
Rushing here and there
No balance in these thoughts
Of semi-sleepless night
Filled with illusions of hodge-podge dreams
As the restless mind travels
Like a wanderer with no home.
Third eye temporarily blinded
As the inmate runs amok
Creating chaos under skies
Trapped for the moment
Below a universe gone mad.

After suffering an injury last night to my forehead, found myself in a sleep filled with non stop dream thoughts that left my mind feeling quite chaotic. On a beautiful cool night for sleep, I wake to slightly throbbing head and confusion to wonder what the heck those dreams meant. I am usually quite clear in my sleeping thoughts but this was pure chaos….hope tonight fares a bit better.