The Silver Spoon

An antiquarian silver spoon,
hidden in an old treasure shop.

A desire to caress the spoon,
to touch and feel the silver.

The spoon feels alive in her hand,
as if she once touched the spoon.

An image of herself so unfamiliar,
laying down on an unknown sofa.

A dress of white adorned with
many light roses moving down.

A noise from behind awakens her,
as the book slips from her chest.

The spoon above her,
a flash of colour,
then cold nothingness.

Seeing herself dead,
looking at his face.
The man she already knows,
blood dripping from the spoon;
her fiance holds the knife.

The View

Condensation moves
My view of the world
Distant trees stand
Distorted by condensation

Wild wind whistling
Rain lashes the outside
Near and far from me
Whistling outside prison

Ceiling light reflection
Raindrops dance in my light
Outside night creeps slowly
My view reflects only me

Condensation sets in
Rain running down, down
Outside is a dreamland
Rain, wind and whispers

My warm prison is artificial
My view clear in my reflection

Lighthouse,Wickie, Sailor, & Sea

Towering, wise and stoic, The Lighthouse remains whole
Standing, waiting, watching, keeping sailor and sea secrets
Towering, remaining whole, until its’ light touches the sea
Standing, wary, unwaveringly calm, watching the ships

The sea, wise and cunning, knows the ways of sailors
Pillaging, profiting, putrefying, destroying the soul of the sea
The sea, calm, experienced, wait until storms begin
Pillaging, foolish, unwise, sailors ignore the weight of the wind

The Lighthouse, alive and well, begins shining light on the sea
A Wickie, solitary, brave, sturdy and comfortably alone
The Lighthouse, guided, independent, saves the ship from harm
A Wickie, thankful, shy, talks to The Lighthouse, friend

Sailors, changed and silent, know the power of the sea
A ship, trusted, tailored, obeys the sailors for fear of the rocks
Sailors, grateful and smiling, thank Wickie and Lighthouse
A ship, tired, tall, sails into the storm and onto the cold shore

Towering and standing wisely on the cliff, The Lighthouse
Sailors thank the Lighthouse and respect the old sea
The Wickie knows The Lighthouse and the sailors’ hearts
The ship feels forgotten until the sea splashes her

Falling Fruit

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You fly into the blue
Another journey to somewhere
while I remain nowhere

As you fly into the blue
An engine gives a cough
The cargo bounces about

You text me of love
A strange message from you
I text back words of love

They say the plane crashed slow
Hundreds of lives frozen in terror
My heart broke into love shards

You died in that crash
Going into the green
As it rained falling fruit

Painting by Mercedes Granel, “Falling Fruit.”