breeze

Painted in the Canvas

Folder: 
Just a thought!
Streaming through a sun swept field, Tethered ballerinas dancing in the wind
Waves of iridescent colors blow across a sea of refracted cotton candy.
Never a sweeter breeze, I could wisp it round a cone and taste it's allure.

As a choreographed ballet sways with balance and perfection, sunlight glistens

through silken shawls while a few lace ribbons float around with the wind.

Natures creations in full bloom, petals fluttering up a wind song as the breeze

whistles through bouquets of timeless beauty. Kneeling at the edge rows,

the wind rustles through my long silky hair; I become part of the symphony.

Immersed in this wondrous creation... I am forever, painted in the canvas.

 

by Barry Anderson

                                     

Author's Notes/Comments: 

#1Beauty in a field of flowers

 #2"You're always a part of the picture, sometimes needing a bigger one as you look back."

                                                   

 

                                                   

A Breeze of Memory

A graveyard of dead trees

Fallen leaves of vast red and orange seas

Squirrels scurry before winter strikes

As children play while others pass on bikes

 

harmony of the trees an the wind come together and sing

As a bird chirps then stops to clean it's wing

Children shrieking and screaming as they play

Angry armies of cars roar past, then fly away

 

Memories start of when I was a kid

Only broken away by time an what it did

Sitting still only in question

Of who I am and to what is my impression

 

I laughed . . . I played here

I was happy unknown of fear

But then reality again breaks memory's connection

Only to be lost again, still unknown of my reflection

 
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Author's Notes/Comments: 

annnd, here you have yet another class assignment that I did way back.

 

Freedom

Folder: 
Love

Flying free
Away from here
My love branded me
Now nothing to fear
Nothing to lose
Everything's gone
All I have left
Is a new song

Now I'm free to fly
Away from here
No hold over me
Not one tear
My body is burned
By death of passion
Now all alone
Demise my ration
My ashes will fly
On the wings of the breeze
And you'll remember my love
In the whispers of the trees
For though I am free
I'm not leaving, hear?
And the remembrance of me
Will haunt you my dear

This freedom...; is it free?
Or is it just my apathy
Chilling the coals that once burned
Before your ice did make them turn
Now ashes are all thats left of my love
Look down on me good God above!
See the pain that's slit open my veins
See all the tears that are hidden in rains
See how my dreams were dashed on what's real
See how loving of death I now feel
And all the while I can see her grinning
This I know: Death is just the beginning
So again I ask, Is freedom free
Or is it just a wish for me?

Who knew I could make ashes from cinders?
Who knew that Snow could be made of heat?
Who knew that always doesn't mean forever?
Who knew that my loss could make me complete?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a remake of "Free" for ashes_twisted, and is open to change. Enjoy

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Free

Folder: 
Love

Flying free
Away from here
My love burned me
Now nothing to fear
Nothing to lose
Everything's gone
All I have left
Are the words of a song

Free to fly
Away from here
Nothing to hold me
Not one tear
My ashes will fly
On the wings of the breeze
And you'll hear my love
In the whispers of the trees

Who knew I could make ashes from cinders?
Who knew that Snow could be made of heat?
Who knew that love doesn't last forever?
Who knew that loss could make me complete?

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When Ghosts Dream

Folder: 
Poetry

And when the dead lie down to sleep
in the cradle of the worm,
their gleaming dreaming souls the angels will keep
in the arms the cool breeze
of the unseen ever-after.

Waning Crescent: A Poet's Reverie

Tonight the moon is on waning crescent;
it hangs on the eastern sky like a sharp steel
wedge against a backdrop of unlight.

There are no stars in the perimeter, only
a slight cool breeze, the last remnant of winter
cold--nowadays the seasons have lost
their senses, acquired a tendency to drift,

while the moon goes on waxing and waning,
as it has, since she came out of the earth's crust
four point four million years ago.

Tonight I drive my old Ford under the wedge
of the old moon, drifting like the seasons
through half-deserted streets--streets not long
ago fraught with people and traffic and suits.

Out here in the perimeter the grand trees sway
in the cool breath of June, unhurried by design,
moving in slow tempo to the soft cadence

of the night.

Was it like this eons ago when you and I,
in far other guise, roamed the silver valleys
of the moon, whispering like the leaves

under huge skies? with thoughts too strange
to share in this supernal spot of Time, this
conjunction of times, this unfathomable universe?

Perhaps beyond our limited perceptions,
in the night's huge exhalations, other selves,
other lives, connected to our own, take

their being, and return to us on a cool
night like this, when the moon is on waning
crescent, and there are no stars in the perimeter,

just the grand trees, unhurried by design,
all a-sway in the cool soft breeze of June.

--Jim Valero, 03/19/2012.

A Breeze

If I were able to toss and and swirl
about above the meninscus of the ocean;
I would love to be a dizzy little thing!
I would swoop and dip in and out again
over the tiny hollows of each little wave
till I whooshed up around and
riled up the sand with eddies at your feet
dropping the grains of glass pebbles like
a fluttering gift; dying down a little,
I would wrap my self around
your calves then climb up
and twine a track between, over, under
and through investigating every part of you
closely brushing and twisting around your torso
and winding by the nape of your neck
whispering gently as I hung about your lobes
lapping into your ears stories of where I've been
to look in hopes to find another half of me
and the winding twisting ease of which
life I find is, as a breeze I would trace across
your lips and and tickle you there gently
caressing and licking at the salt above.
I would dance around and invigorate
your body and travel all through your viens
and enter your mind where I would trace
a million thoughts of you so fine again.
I would plant a seed of hope and gently
water you in and say listen
to that whisper on the wind
calling you, that is your love searching
listen, let the wine of love breathe
and smell the sweet musky scent
as I leave and trace around you again.
in hoding every trace of you in my memory
making invisible shaped yous
as I travel back to sea and quitely
dance around waiting for you to breathe
the breath of love into me
through a little tiny breeze.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

its a draft but here it is none the less! hope you enjoy! :)

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