Funambulist

don’ t read between my lines

instead

walk them like a tightrope

balancing

core tight, against soul

with suede slipper slide

and toe beyond heel before toe

inching toward my true

 

you are not dizzy

though the air thins

and a spotlight weaves to disorient

causing precarious sway

 

now look up

my eyes shall meet yours in silent trust

and come here

without hesitation

you must

An Impatient Heart

How do you calm an impatient heart?

 

Do you lead her to the riverside

and distract her with mossed root and pebble collide

seeking her yearnings to hide?

 

Do you still her with indigo sky

point at gasps of cloud pile on high

will this scene not render a sigh?

 

Do you caution

“wear shoes on the slippery hill!”

but she has already bolted

wild child

she

is

still

TO OWN A BREEZE

“To Own a Breeze” by Nigel P Smith. I just had to share this, because even the title of this poem is fierce magic and I adore every word that follows….

VOICES OF A HIDDEN SELF

To own a breeze

If I could, I would have my own breeze

with a soft song voice of hum and sigh

playfully weaving amongst the trees

as I by brackish beck in sun patch lie

lulled by stencil dancing shadow dots

and the swish of many tormented leaves

gently blown, releasing solar shots

of brief warming touch upon my sleeves.

I would send it off across this land

to sweep though dale and over plain

chivvying meadow and golden sand,

then with stolen sounds return again

to give me gifts of a firstborn’s cry

and of young love’s kiss parting lips,

the melting voice of a beauty shy

or a laughter burst from comic slips.

Such treasures in my heart I’ll keep

and savour as though a heady wine

while my breeze spoils senses deep

with scents of garlic wild and pine.

Then I would ask of my breeze

View original post 19 more words

Exhale

I spread in the shallow sea

and sink into the cool

eyes unblinking

 

the edges of the sky shall blur

the clouds lost to me

i no longer hear your voice

muffled against ocean whispers

captured in hollow shell

 

raindrops scatter as tears

silent promises dilute

I exhale and sink further

my body settling on sand rippled

now to toss gently with sea grasses

until a new tide makes me whole

 

For Hailie S, fellow soul sentinel and prose connoisseur. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sparrow Heart

How shall you know me?

 

Here with my fledgling heart

a tangle of tufted feathers

cupped in my hands

a sparrow with injured wing

a sparrow stunned, yet able to sing

not yet able to fly

 

I take her back to me

to nurture with millet and ragweed

and watchful eye

she’ll rest at the barred window

and yearn for the sky

to climb free

when your hour is nigh

 

 

Kronos speaks

I will grant you a wish

but you cannot have it all

the beauteous blooms of springtime

always wither, die and fall

 

the sunsets seem aplenty

yet for every one, one less

an eternal share of beauty?

no, finite at time’s behest

 

your childhood summers

seemingly endless at the time

but I counted them like grains of sand

all gone

so says my rhyme

 

so the wish?

well then…

your choice is none

for tempestuous clouds

shall steal your sun

 

vain, lowly mortal

hear me when I say

’tis only love that lingers

beyond the end of your day

 

 

Kronos is the Greek God of TIme. Not a real family guy, he castrated his father and devoured his children.

Summer

come lay by me

withered grass bed at our backs

blue sky under our feet

grab me, when I say I’m falling ….

and we’ll laugh like children

for I meant “for you”

and you thought

“into the blue”

 

on this late August eve

while the  lazy bumble bees hover nearby

we listen to the frolic of breezes

playing leaf rustle games,

and feast on the plump blackberries

staining lips and fingertips

 

and

I am heavy with the season

heat, and longing

I am the "little armored one", moving gently through life. Hoping to safeguard my sensitivities with layers of words and the expression of thought. Shielding my mirror neurons at times, or tasting music and spinning till I'm dizzy. Every moment here is a gift.