A Child’s Play

I watch you play upon the stairs,

Lost in your childhood games,

Built by your imagination,

With freedom and no restraint.

Today you are a sailor,

The captain of your ship,

Sailing on the ocean sea,

Procuring a long summer trip.

You sing a song

That you have loved,

Words of an old lullaby,

You sing a song on the stairs today,

Singing loud—you’re not shy.

The stairs are now a jungle,

A land that you explore,

With a monkey and a zebra,

A tiger and a vicious wild boar.

You pretend you’re on a skyscraper

High up in the sky,

Playing like you’re really there,

And wishing you could fly.

Once again, you’re hungry,

Therefore, you stop and eat your lunch,

You’ll be a chef in your own shop,

There’s not much time to stop.

The stairs are now a cherry tree

In your own loved backyard,

With grass and flowers, and bumble bees,

Except in this tree, you cannot scrape your knees.

The stairs yet again, a mountain top

Reaching high into the sky,

But all too soon, it’s evening time

And now, no more time to climb.

Your Masks

It covers your soul as darkness draping over the sunlight,

Your Spirit seeking the world with penetrating eyes,

An undisputable wave, a persuaded glance,

A vanity inside abides,

Fragmented consumed exhibits –

You build –

Pieces as shattered glass,

Dusted with suffering in prolonged time,

Whirling with frenzy, becoming a dance

With mere thoughts of an empty heart-

Longing an eternity of dual hearts

Winged hand-in-hand evoking beauty,

Dreaming a joyful dawn, a gem of love,

And bonds given by hours of a gentle work;

You guard your soul knowing each mask

Stands alone and strong, seeking the selfsame,

Posing evolved and amassed, yet with little understanding;

Statutes unfair do never-rest, and never ends,

Leading only to bareness – far and wide;

A prisoner kept inside your encased wearied mask.

Do not accede to life’s ragged hand slaying your treasure,

Disrobe the masks you wear and sanctioned;

Mark your love and tranquility for a time to come,

Allow your soul to breathe unleashed –

Allow yourself permission to be free in peace.

Summer Love

Morning’s crowning glow,

Gentle indispensable love,

Glimmering,

Bringing to awareness

Sun’s warmth,

Graced upon your neck,

A summer cherished in time,

Stirring stunning rainbows,

Whisper fair wind in my ear.

Balance – Lost

Willow branches sway

Taunted by wind’s heavy breeze,

Night’s black encompassing blanket

Ushering in silence recalling madness;

Suspended laughter drowning memories,

Songs prevented on closed ears,

Flowing tears traced on forgotten faces,

Anguished hearts crushed by desolate paths,

A shriveled wasted hand extended—

Grasping, recoiling; disappearing into the blackness.

A sliver of hope—

Promised in a single breath,

At conception;

Now, the balance — lost,

Greed lurking in earths’ corners,

Waiting to blind

And gift-

Lack of empathy;

Silence echoes madness.

An Old Woman

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Kathleen's Writings & Art

Beneath the shade of an old oak tree,

there sat an old woman

completely free,

humming and singing

an unfamiliar song,

with sounds so sweet

and words not long.

Her white sun-kissed hair

blowing like a running mare

on the tails of the wind,

and her tan leathery skin,

draped with a dress

vibrant in colors

and apparently unpressed.

A spell she cast on me

as I sat near,

how lovely, how serene,

with smells of sweet flowers

awakening in the spring.

A warmth filled my soul

as I closed my eyes,

how peaceful was the

never-ending blue sky.

I could stay there for hours,

no time was addressed,

I had no where to be

and,

I needed the rest.

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Remember

Remember –

When we went to that lovely German town,

We walked the cobble stone streets,

And gazed into the store windows,

And shopped in the boutiques –

The town looked like a painting by Rockwell,

Remember –

The German food,

And all the laughter,

And the silent nights,

Remember?

She Dances

Swaying to music

In perfect beat,

Lost in a world

Of sweet serenity,

Looking graceful

Like a willow tree,

Being blown gently

By the breeze,

She dances.

Walking My Way

I saw him through the sunlight

Walking my way,

I prayed he would stop

And say, ”Good-day”.

He did just that-

And my throat froze up,

I tried to speak,

But nothing came out.

He smiled at me,

While we stood still,

The wind brushed his hair,

While, I tried not to stare.

His words came out softly,

I could hardly hear, because

My heart pounded so loudly

While he stood very near.

I smiled at him and nodded,

And he did the same-

As he turned and walked away,

Man, what a shame!

Spirits in the Night

There’s a story on the island

of spirits in the night,

a special place where they go to dance

on the sand in the midnight moonlight.

You can hear them singing

and laughing

as they hide in the fog,

they play hide-n-seek and

ride the surf’s roll.

You won’t see their faces—

but they see your soul,

they watch you and hear you

as the island winds blow.

Their seaweed hair wet,

limbs swaying in the mist,

the moonlight gone,

as the sand turns cold,

they return each night,

it’s their favorite place,

well—that’s what I’m told.

My Soul to Hold

My lover,

Take my soul—once more,

Forget me not, as daisies trodden on

Which on the hill is found.

I am a weary way-worn traveler,

Onward bound to my native shore,

Desperate seas I roam alone,

Waves of clouds I chase away,

Island mist upon my face,

Let us meet—once more.

Grasp love’s newest breath,

Say you love me true,

Warm and freely I give to you,

My soul to hold—

Once more.

A New Rising Sun

A new rising sun,

A treasure of harmony,

The awaken ascend from their sleep-

Brightly painted green summer leaves

Damp by the morning’s first dew,

Sweet perfume-

Soft touches of a gentle wind;

Comforts of a hug,

Loving kisses,

Caresses of life.

A Sad Song

She sits alone,

Her skeleton

Pressed, molded,

Wrought by an empty heart.

She sings

A forlorn song,

Purse empty,

Neighbors drift afar,

Afraid to be there,

They point and stare,

Material junk

Seals their hearts.

She wears

A heart heaving

With aches and prayers,

A binding truth and love

She strives to share

But others’ fear

Converts to glare,

And not one steps near.

Who Will?

Hearts yearn for all lost,

Journey’s quest uncharted,

Tossed to and fro-

By life’s stormy waves.

Who will show the way?

Who will hold the hands?

Who will embrace those stumbling?

No words spoken.

Children Play

Laughing children on a sunny day,

barns stacked full with fresh baled hay,

bright red apples on trees in a row,

autumn leaves scattered on the ground below.

Children playing in flowered fields,

grazing horses dot the rolling hills,

night arrives with star splashed sky,

and children chase the fireflies.

Captured Heart

My heart is captured

By new hopes- with dreams

Wished upon the falling stars;

I embrace them near,

With anticipation,

With promise –

They arise true;

Holding them tight,

Not letting them steal away,

Not allowing disappointment

Or sorrow;

With a open heart –

I search the sunbeams,

And moon shadows,

I cling to my dreams.

Happy 4th of July

Happy Happy 4th of July!!!
May you have a fireworks of a day!!

A Word of Love

“I want you to know-

The other day, I was hiking-

Listening to old tunes on my radio-

I was thinking about my past-

and-

The only woman that echoed in my mind-

Is you”,

He said to her.

Atlantis Award for Best Poem: Submission Period Now Open

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The Atlantis Award is awarded to a single best poem. The winning poet receives $100 and will be featured in an interview on The Poet’s Billow web site. The winning poem will be published and displayed in the Poet’s Billow Literary Art Gallery and nominated for a Pushcart Prize. If the poet qualifies, the poem will also be submitted to The Best New Poets anthology.

Up to five runners-up will be considered for publication and a Pushcart Prize nomination.

Follow this link for guidelines on how to enter: Atlantis Award

Read last year winners here: 2012 Atlantis

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Journey

Commence our journey

With our childhood dreams,

Short-lived, all too soon set free,

Drifting on wind’s breath,

Loosely held,

Slightly possessed,

Once in wit’s play,

Once determined to embark – yet,

Eventually, slowly

One by one, we let them go.

But, with reflection

Our journey’s travel

Will later discover

Childhood dreams emerging forth,

Uncovered, found, laid bare,

Not forgotten, in wit’s play,

Our journey, ourchildhood dreams

To embark.