Poetry – Page 66

Scared of Lemons

A wild pronking dance
scared of the rolling lemon
dirt and lemon juice

For I was young and didn’t care
yet now I look on in despair
For I didn’t think that I did care
and now I know it’s not fair

A broken canvas
hurling gemstones
piercing the painting

Contemporary dancing
wildly moving inspiration
the wall and canvas collide

A dull one dimensional easel
the inspiration river flows outside
A broken canvas and broken gems

The artwork reveals itself.

I was here, yet I was there
in a windswept green with
the Northern wind words.

Lost in the deep green, the
moss, and the beginning of
snow falling upon my face.

Lucid dreaming of a dreamed
up land coming to life, the
world around me loses form.

There and here.

We had everything; rain-cloudy days, green grass on the hills, and the passing seasons.

Our beautiful home. Slowly and then rapidly, we destroyed all that we loved.

Now the lucky few found a new home of dust, rust, and the absence of rain clouds, season, and love.

Thinking thoughts of you
A reflective song plays rain
Sitting without you

I wish for nature to invade my brain
take me from the concrete and steel

show me the end and the beginning
tell me a story about the young sea

stay close to me and guide my heart
teach me about the ancient old ones

sing the language of the trees to me
I wish for nature to tell me her stories

A shadow behind me, something hidden, travels along.

The constant disappointments, no matter how hard I try. Longing for my hard work to pay off, yet I never fit in.

So close I feel her breath. My evil twin, my doppelgänger, keeps playing cruel games with my life.

The words are all wrong,
nothing seems to rhyme,
and there is no flowing.

Sitting alone watching,
waiting for inspiration,
hoping for a moonlit sign.

The neighbour waves,
stops for a moment and points
towards the starlit night.

A shooting star,
inspiration,
words forming.

Watching the trees, farms, and everything else whizz past from the bus window.

For a moment, I was a member of the landed gentry, safe with the knowledge that my future was comfortable until the family told me who to marry.

I go back to watching the trees and the cows.