Blessings beyond

Room with a view
stillness beyond the thin pane,
candles lit to break the darkness
as night comes calling
to a heart reflecting in peace.
Trips down the lane
as yesterday waits to be remembered
and we paint our world in color of season,
the scent emerges to spark the mood
of yule and cone nestled
between the wrap of yellowed paper,
we pluck one by one
with a gentle smile
and our youth comes rushing back
welcomed with a laugh on air,
decorated walls speak of tradition,
of long lost times and faces
we still see in our minds eye.
Blessings beyond the here and now,
we are gifted with the goodness
of hearth and home
and the abundance of knowing the worth
of love and life
and all that lay in between,
we settle in comfort and with a gentle sigh
dive into the joy of another moment spent
with beauty all around.

Football on the tube and next up, finishing putting ornaments on the tree. Not knowing how the new kitty would be with it, we left it up last night with only lights strung. Today the true test will be had by all. Crossing fingers and hopeful that all will be well till it comes down at the end of the month.


Kit Kat says I’ll behave…..insert evil cat laugh _____ here.

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Depth of field

Eyes follow the horizon
scanning for meaning in the fade,
the colors stacked in tandem
blended into almost one,
smooth.
They rise up to flight,
a million specks float on air
magical illusions create beauty
from solid to something more,
porous being.
We follow along below
as mirages take form becoming
remembered moments and faces
we see in the distance
as our depth of field comes to focus
and we become more in tune,
so alive and free,
floating.

Voice of a dream

Lost in the atmosphere,
moon slips in and out of cosmic clouds
patterned after my thoughts
on this cold-hearted night.
Luna Moon sits gently waiting
and I know at dawn I will find here there still,
sailing high in the blue sky
like an eye on the mere mortals
that scurry below on grounded roads.
Where would we go if we could fly to touch
her stoic white porcelain face,
to float in her space
paying homage to the beauty found,
would we come crashing to the ground
when all was said and done,
as her fickle self kept moving
round and round,
would she speak to us once more
through the dreams we cherish,
curled in the warm cotton cocoon waiting,
would she spin us in her orbit
like small children again,
merrily we would roll along
beside her mighty form
and so very small we would be
dancing in her shadow
in and out of the light of the cloud
that shrouds her at times,
she always finds us though
waiting….always waiting for more,
another glimpse
and another space between slivers of days
that pass as fast as she
on cold November nights.

Image found on Pixabay