Category: metaphoric


Someday I’ll no longer be tethered

like the little blonde girl with purse of red patent leather

when someone like you stole all

her young heart’s most-valued treasures

Untethered, if ever that relentless storm

again, crashes down unmeasured

And although I’ve grown only

a small set of feathers

I now know, they are built to repel

all manner of hell; doing it really, really well

 Still stronger, they’ll grow

preparing for a case of the never-say-never

when they will lift me up

to fly freely through, any type of inclement weather

 

 

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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

 

 

 

 

Photo 106

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

 

Photo 161

I resign

(it is smart)

from this bind

(for my heart)

It is so unkind

(and other parts)

There is still time

(to begin a new chart)

Let reason go; the focus is rhyme

(press restart)

My back will align

(to release the beating of my heart)

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She vowed

knowing how

few, do

She gave

to save

you from you

But she’s real

and she feels

too

So, now

hold up her prow (it’s yours)

to do

Love, always her choice

listen to this voice

she speaks

to you

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Taking a back seat

may be the best choice

for taking in

all the beauty

along the roadside

instead of risking

a likely crash

as driver, if you fail

to notice the signs

of an upcoming dead end

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If a heart has holes in it

joy leaks right through

This dampens hope

rendering it unable

to repair so many tears

Thus, hope reaches

for the protective coat

of love’s sweet embrace

before joy runs out

In union with love

hope finds strength to mend

this worn, torn heart

so once more, it can

hold joy inside