Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Monday, July 21, 2014

Morning Doves

As I had a luncheon with a friend yesterday. I found listening as she talked, that it was true, that everyone has at least one story. Though there are a few of us who have more than our share. Different as people may seem, there is a connection to each and everyone of us. That connection is simply the emotions we experience throughout life. Of course I do believe there are people that are cold of heart, but realistically I think most of have felt, the joy of love, the pain of hell and all the emotions in between. I find I can confuse myself as I look at my own experiences in very different ways.

I thought I knew tomorrow,
what the future had in store,
from the moment I met you
I knew my heart you'd adorn.

The darkness is overwhelming,
the sun hides behind the clouds
as I dream of my forever,
the storms of life wash up
like the waves against the shore.

Two Morning doves,
caught me by surprise,
lying under the lilac
as time passes by.

They didn't move
nor did they coo,
but the closer I got,
off they flew.

Two Morning doves,
caught me by surprise,
as I watered the garden
their feathers caught my eye.

They took in different directions,
to the blue of the sky and
returned in a moment to
bed down for the night.

Two Morning doves,
caught me by surprise,
as the first thing I thought of
was you and I.

The weather was incredibly humid today but never the less I attended the farmers market. In a summer cotton floral dress, my hair brushed back and with a sense of youth at heart. It matter very little how much we made, it was important that we shared in a day with many people from various walks of life. Somehow I just know that the path we are on is some  how predetermined. You know how they say going home is always faster than getting there. Well that holds true on every trip I take, some how the road to home is always shorter. Where is home? The cowboys would say"home is where you leave your boots" and farmers " home is where you hang your hat" but I think home is love, so I would say " home is where the heart is.  That is why I think it bothered me so much when the sewage company came through the hollow as I was so attached to  the flowers and the trees and as they took a part of it way, so did they take a part of my heart.  But as I replant and grow new flowers and trees, I find that with them is planted a new set of memories.

The willow was awfully shallow
and didn't stand the test of time,
though I had hoped for more,
the embraced branches rotted
like a non cared for grapevine.

The place where it once stood .
leaves no trace or sign, all that
is left is some grass and thorn
like neglected vines.

But time is so forgiving and
this much I do know,
that the mighty oak tree,
just grows and grows.

Stars in the heavens,
shine down on me,
keeping the secrets,
of all of my dreams.

If the moon could
read the words,
written in the heart,
it would speak of
our love.

Stars in the heavens,
shine down on me,
keeping the secrets,
of all of my dreams.

I can only dream what tomorrow will bring,
season upon season the song bird still sings.
I would talk the wind to take to you,
a kiss of love as it sails the heavens blue.

I can only wish to wake up in your arms,
gaze into your eyes and feel each beat of your heart.
I would ask time to stand still as you and I
dance like the dragons flies upon the hill.

I can only want the love of you,
day after day and the whole night through.
I would take a star, sign it forever
from my heart.

Take my hand, my heart is yours,
take my dreams, my love is yours.
One million words or maybe a zillion or two,
each and every one a word written for you.
Each and every moment of the passing day,
is filled with a love that grows in a magical way.
I just want to love you
and love you I do.
You are my angel and
the sky is our blue.
I just want to wake up,
feel you next to me,
know that this is love,
as love was meant to be.
I just want to spend my
life with you , dancing
on the clouds , while
making dreams come true.

1 comment:

Margie said...

I just read through all of your most recent poems.
You truly have a gift.
I love everything you write.

I go to the farmer's market on Saturday's with my daughter.
She's selling Younique a make-up line.
I enjoy my time there.