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Posts Tagged ‘bloom’

Think about the pen and the fingerprints

romancing in the glistening dust against the sunlight.

The faded photographs with watermarks

of remembrances salvaged from the past.

Brittle to touch and slowly turning to ashes.

 

Think about the bookmarks of dried rose petals

and the faint smell imprinted to the pages,

rescued from the years of forgetting the ones

that mattered most. And the dreams that never

meant to be owned like the earth where I stand.

 

If the promise of coming back becomes a distant memory-

counting each sunrises and every new moons. Let hope

travel its feet while I sit beside by the window waiting.

For innocence will turn my graying hairs to white

and youth will leave me like the wilted leaves of autumn.

 

The season changes and they say time heals every wound.

But the scars of our love-thorned lives remains relived

in our book of days. I wish the summer winds will carry

the ashes until forgetting. I wish sleep will banish the things

which I failed to tell you when you left me. I moved on.

 

I have written letters with the pen until it dried out of ink

I have recorded our memories for fear that it will be lost too.

And my waning mind gave birth to words I have bookmarked

with fresh flowers that blooms from the same earth I will lay

with my dreams. I am not afraid anymore of the longest night

 

until tomorrow.

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I met Monet

in his princely demeanor,

among the manicured lawn

and the secret garden

grows its verdant sprigs

and tresses, wild and free

in the prairie. Butterfly

flutters  paint palette

hovering bloom

after bloom. Solitude

 

drips in cadmium and ochre sun

sitting prominently,

potted and composed,

regal and undisturbed.

A gentle touch of the brush

that peaceful gaze,

horizonless strokes,

a sweet landscape.

 

I walk dreamily

drank with loveliness,

the wavy enthusiasm

of the blue sea.

Such is the welcoming

spirit of the flags

sashayed in the wind,

gliding together

with solitary birds

taking flight. Still

 

above the silver lake,

mirrored pools

of mountains in reverie.

I see reflections

of wooden boats

bobbing in a dance

with quiet clouds

rippling soft creating

small shivers

in its feathery face.

 

I remember the way

he  ushered me in

like an esteemed guest.

Taking my eyes to see

his picture books

of seeming easiness,

that immortal silence

showing how

to live as human,

not quite heavy

as his tormented soul.

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There was a time when I thought happiness

was infinite and the night full of stars.

And I have my way of keeping track

each day written on a page. There was a time,

when the breeze came to my sails

as it float away myriad of dreams-

like kites braving the sky.

And the harvest is here,

filled my basket overflowing

of summer fruits in its season.

 

It was a time of plenty

and a time of tender love

when every prairie blooms

in the suppleness of spring.

Basking to the sun’s golden stream

into the woods by the mid-morning

when I endlessly salute those fine,

bright times rejoicing.

 

But like butterflies flutter their wings-

yesterday is a maiden whose beauty hides

by the moonrise. I sit there by the terrain

watching the sunset. When the light

of the day were torn pages into pieces.

In the autumn,  like falling leaves.

Sadness came. A blight of the winter

and the frost became cobwebs.

The winds now, they sing a dirge

slowly becoming whispers. Yesterday

walks away silently, weeping like a lady.

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