Down on calloused knees
pulling weeds from an overgrown heart
many resist, their roots so deep
but “tut tut it looks like rain” will start
If it pours awhile, becoming a contender
perhaps the caked soil will soften
to aid removal of the worst offenders
which trail underneath, so often
Pour down, pour down
ease this relentless toil
wash clean the ground
lessen the inner turmoil
Eyes wet beneath the hat’s dry brim
more clearing left to do
heart soaked through my skin
I begin anew
Some mediums cannot be erased
Light tints don’t cover darker hues
So, I am only partly colored in
with most of it, a deep blue
Somehow along the gallery wall
time got lost in the paint-by-numberings
while unfinished in a corner, sat a portrait
pushed aside with day-to-day encumberings
Dreamsight faded into monochrome
the past leaving a large lasting stain
if only all unwanted marks could be washed away
like watercolors in the rain
The small blue bird
always perched very near to
her older, more experienced friend on the power line
Whenever a storm brewed up a strong wind
she leaned heavily against her protector
She had no awareness of her own weight
until the dark, foreboding, day she was pushed away
causing a hard fall onto the rocky road
which rendered her unable to fly
From that day on, she stayed
alone in the brush, never to see
her dear, feathered, companion again
The little blue bird often wondered if
on that tragic day
her strong friend had merely collapsed
from the exhaustion
of holding steady on that wire
Heartspell 