Saturday, November 28, 2009

Loving Visions


The lines upon his face told a story struggle, wisdom,
his voice told tales, realities, vision.
The tired worn eyes told of pain, of love.

He tossed his spirit into the clouds,
and spread the shadow over the land,
he held the strength of the eagle in flight upon his aging hand.

His strength represented in each feather,
many moons have drifted by,
he opens his arms to embrace the night,
a tear falls from his eye.

His love remembers, such beauty,
the wildest of horses could never tame
clouds fall softly in kisses
the wind, she whispers his name.

Soon he will will hold her closely once again,
his arms strong picking her up, a soft kiss upon her face
meeting once again upon the mountainside,
watching the colors drifting upward from the waterfalls,
in love, as life, this special place.



Friday, November 27, 2009

Seasons of Life

A wonderful collaboration with a twitter friend Chris Bellinger, artist/writer emerged on Nov. 8, 2009, I was searching my art from years gone by to post with it, as I have not done much currently. Old illustration was done in 1995, entitled "Vivid Dreams" ~ I named this poetic collaboration Seasons of Life.



April: Deep blue skies/clouds passing waves along the seas/gravitating toward moon/ Hazel eyes flickering lights taking in shadowed gray trees

The waves flow through the sky, as the wind sings its song, the owl dances though the darkness, in the currents carried along
The river stretches far into the distance, a painting in infinite tone, connecting to the horizon amongst many trees it does not stand alone

Chris Bellinger: for the river is connected with the landscape it travels through, the hills that may stand in its way, it has to go round

April: holding hands with the sky the trees touch gracefully with, reaching, ever reaching, breathing in, the quiet wind's sound

Chris: Leaves gently rustle in the wind a hint on the air of autumn changes, the yearly cycle moves on. Then one falls to the ground gathering pace
as more join leaving a sleton branch the first of many to appear over the hours

April: the painting of thoughts words began in the brush of night, it continues restless without the concept: tired, fading into light never gone,
the colors blanket the land in graceful gentle hand, knowing ever knowing more will return to the branch in new life, season will replace.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Beneath the Same Moon


Beneath purple skies lit with the moon,
she walks in with the river flow.
He stands in the distance,
beneath the same moon glow.


Wondering…
maybe…but no…
her thought protests the notion.
Her future stands in the presence,
as she heals her heart…
defying emotion.

She blends into the trees,
hair wisps into the leaves…
her child, flowers in hand.
Golden hearts…golden hair.
Still…whispers…love she believes.

She pretends she can’t hear the whispers,
passing through the air,
in the night…
she turns to see him still standing there,
her heart flutters,
but…she disappears from sight.

Wondering…
maybe…but no…could it be?…
her thoughts…love…
she stands in the present…
beneath the same moon as he…










Thursday, November 12, 2009

Magnetic Emotion


Pulled in between the positive and negative energies,
as the soul struggles to connect,
emotionally charged by the forces in a driven heart,
dreams, hopes, happiness, desires, faith, passion, loves,

the words, a magnet,
where all have met,
and in between,
the negative still seen,
yet the balance of what is to be,
all held in each energy.



The pull far stronger, far greater, of positive force,
to deflect the negative back upon itself,
and hold tightly, closer, to the more caring source.



Life, creating changes,
to bear witness to,
enduring pain,
heartaches, and it takes and it takes,
until the magnet turns,
the hearts force beating,
louder, stronger,
emotionally charged,
pushing the negative away,
the forces in a driven heart finding their way
pulled once again, turning toward the positive,
back to the dreams, the hopes, happiness, desires, faith, passion and loves,
where the words still remain,
emotionally charged, they still remain.


Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Endless


He said, “it’ll all be okay,
just take a deep breath, one day at a time.” He wiped the tear.
He said, “everything will be alright, I’ll help you through,
don’t you worry, I’ll be right here.”

She pulled away.

He said, “wait don’t go, stay here with me for awhile,
we can go for a walk, one step at a time, take my hand.” He reached out.
He said, “tell me your visions of what a future could hold, I’d like to be there,
don’t you worry, I promise my love you’ll never be without.

Her eyes shifted to the distance, fading thought.

He said, “please take your eyes off that old tree,
just for a moment, look at me.”
He said, “there is something I see in your eyes of true heart and soul,
and that is the place I’d like to be.”

She moved closer.

She said, “we could go on talking forever”
she took a deep breath, “but talking is not the only thing that I need to hear.”
She said, “I know everything will be alright,
I can wipe away the fallen tear.”

He listened attentively.

She said, “I’ll stay here with you for awhile,
we can go for a walk, one step at a time, neither of us leading, but side by side.” She reached out.
She said, “tell me your visions of what a future could hold, we’ll both share,
in that maybe we both can discover what true love is about.”

He gazed upon her.

She said, “Please take your eyes off me,
just for a moment, look upon that old tree.”
She said, “there stands the breath of life, strong reaching high,
seems it goes on forever loving the sun and the moon in the sky,
symbolic of the endless heart and soul in my eyes that you see.

Their lips met beneath the tree, in the Autumn shade,
his hand moved to touch her hair,
a soft yellow leaf fell upon her,
as they embraced in the hearts’ discovery there.




Monday, November 9, 2009

Within the Blue and Green


An old illustration, creased edges worn through time,
blues and greens make up a landscape, paper curled,
she envisions more, a peaceful place, the comforts of home, sunsets calm,
closing her eyes to step inside, drawn into another world.


Sitting at the edge of a small frog pond,
waters that have pooled in from the lake nearby.
A dragonfly dips quickly in and out quenching thirst in small ripples,
ducks in formation flying through the sky.


The sun, warm inviting a walk through the day,
to meet with the sailboat moving in,
to carry her over the calm flow,
in this illustration she moves within.


A newly paved road, yet barely traveled,
she watches the quiet from the boat, taking in visions of the beautiful day.
He guides the sail back in the direction of her home,
and she smiles happily, fingers trailing the fence in her walk along the way.


The only car to travel here, pulls up near the house,
a child runs to meet with a kiss and cuddling embrace,
with laughters of the day she’s had, not stopping for a breath,
telling all with excitement in her eyes, a smile upon mommy’s face.


Laying upon the grass, little one at her side,
watching the clouds, reciting what is seen.
Mommy sees a willow tree, her little girl sees a whale,
all within this illustration, inked in blue and green.




~An Extra Special Thanks at Mike Evans (@storylet) for his encouragement and help with the music.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Shadows Above the Earth


Shadows upon the earth,
as clouds flow, tumbling, rolling through an ominous sky,
over the constantly moving ocean of lovers’ dreams,
rainfalls that fill waterfalls, misty tears, the winds sigh.



Shadows dance upon the earth,
as clouds enchant the mountains, intrigue the trees, in a foggy embrace,
over the constantly moving rivers of mystical souls’ desire,
as sunlight pours through in rays in warmth between the evergreens tear dampened face.



Shadows upon the earth,
as clouds flow, tumbling, rolling, through an ominous sky,
over the drifts of sandy dunes, a desert of parched crumbling hearts,
rainfalls that the earth drinks eagerly, from the winds another sigh.



Shadows dance upon the earth,
as clouds encircle smiling lovers’ sunlit glow,
soft essence of fragrant flowers, kissed in the mist,
above and below the love-making rainbow.



Calm Love of Night


A match struck, and in the darkness, a candle,
glowing upon her face, in the dim lit quarters near her bed.
He lay still, as she touched him, he did not wake,
unaware of the loneliness that filled her head.


She disappeared into the hall, following it to another room
with her sleeping child, placed a kiss upon the forehead,
and continued on down the old stairs,
to a large room and the comforts of a chair, softly cushioned red.


The fountain pen flowing upon the textured paper,
a journal to which she poured herself into, in unbridaled emotion,
in the essence of what she had expected love to grant,
and where upon she set her devotion.


Shadows upon the window,
she emerged to look upon, the trees swaying in the world outside,
in dance, the branch, from which leaves were falling,
scattering upon the earth below, she quietly sighed.


The moon lit the sculptures in the garden,
now solemnly unattended, and quietly the candle burned.
A mirror reflected her figure as she passed, a glance upon herself,
and within her minds eye, as her lids closed in thought, her heart yearned.


The door opened in the wind outside,
to which she stepped to feel the soft touches upon the night air,
sitting upon the grass below the old oak, she dreamed in romantic smiles,
and a soft kiss of raindrops fell upon her lips, as though love was there.



A smile in her heart, as she layed upon the lush cool grass,
looking upon the stars connecting infinitely in the skies above,
clouds drifting by, as the owl took flight upon night,
a place to which her soul, knew of a true love.

Friday, November 6, 2009

The Courtship of a Lady




He peers out the window across the valley,
as she gracefully steps toward the pond shaded beneath her umbrella from mid-day sun.
A man meets with her acquaintance, attempting a courtship,
more to follow before the day is done.




He deligently writes, ink splatters and crumpled papers,
he paces, hesitations in the manners to which he should profess such deep emotions.
“I would lay down my sword for you my lady”
but I must not write this, for I am no coward in of these devotions.




“I will raise that sword yet again for you my lady, in battle,
for you I’d fight until the death.”
but I must not write this for she may regard me as a savage,
a heartless fool in the words’ breath.




Time moves forward in the passing of the suns, the moons,
until the next time he sees the light of her eyes,
a rugged man of high stature, walking along her side,
he knows what this means, his heart cries.




He deligently writes, ink splatters, and crumpled papers,
he paces, hesitations in the manners to which he should profess what he has held in his heart so long.
“Nothing, no one in this world could ever change a thing my lady, my love.”
but I must not write this, for I am a man, I must be strong.




“I would place a kiss upon the softness of your hand, hold it forever my lady,
though all I could give would be of my heart alone.”
but I must not write this, for another’s heart you already own.




The next time he saw her,
sadness played upon her face,
beside her the rugged man tugging her about,
she walked silently, her eyes falling down, following the course of her place.




He diligently writes, ink splatters, and crumpled papers,
he paces, no hesitations in the manners to which he should profess such deep emotions.
“I would lay down my sword for you my lady,
though I am no coward in these devotions,
I will raise that sword yet again for you my lady, in battle,
for you I’d fight until the death,
do not regard this a savagery,
as I’ll love you until my very last breath.”




He peers out across the valley,
meeting with her in the mid-day sun,
he hands to her his letter, attempting his courtship,
his battle, professing his love, his heart has won.



Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Soul Journey


Her dress clung in her feminine form,
as the night air drew in breaths
of long traveled journey,
searching
a soul.
Her feet trailing in the soft sweet clover and grass,
as the moon stared in reflection upon the cool creek
as it pooled into calmer lakes,
of a tired heart quest,
reaching for a branch upon the tree,
or a hand,
in heartfelt guidance,
where her mind stopped to rest.
Her dress now wet as she crossed the waters,
over stones,
unscathed, unlike her heart,
as it beat quietly beneath her breast,
in anticipation
a destination unknown,
but a place for solitude,
upon a mountain,
in the calm vision of nature,
to heal the wounds
to which life had placed in loneliness,
to which life had placed struggle,
though much in this solitude beneath the trees,
her heart could never be lonely,
and the struggle crossing over the rocks,
the climb upon the mountainside
a struggle to which is only met in the comfort
of the glow of sunrise, in smiles,
and the healing found in wildflowers growing,
dancing in the mist upon morning air,
where her soul is met.

Two Lovers


They were two lovers seeking but one soul,
meeting quietly along their rocky path,
reaching out carressing the hand, leaving a leafy trail,
joining them, making them whole.


Each moment passing, growing ever closer, touching,
entwining from the roots to which began this life,
making-love beyond the surface to which had been trampled upon,
growing ever deeper, warmed by the days' thoughts, merging.


Time drifting, they sway along with the breeze,
quenched from thirst for which was sought, through the rains of life.
Limbs embracing, strengthening, surpassing the storm,
reaching closer still through the wintery freeze.


They were two lovers seeking but one soul,
entwined from the roots to which began this life.
Making-love beyond the surface to which had been trampled upon,
growing ever deeper, joining them, making them whole.

Maine Memories


The sidewalks lined with red brick and wrought iron light posts,tables outside, people enjoying the cuisine, maybe a couple, sipping fine wine.
A trolley car takes me to the next destination, the Ogunquit Museum of Fine Art, in Maine,

inside lights surround framed paintings, and sculptures outside complete the landscape design.


A path along the oceanside stretches at least a mile,
through the brush, looking out over the rocky cliffs, below, a sandy beach,
soon I will be carried out over the open sea,
to view a lighthouse standing tall in the distance, illuminating my vision in its reach.


The summer air is rather cool, I slip on a sweatshirt for warmth.
Mist drifts in with breezes, a salty yet sweet kiss upon my face,
time carries on over waves in slow dance,
as the boat brings me back to the shores of this memorable place.


A hearty meal awaits, sitting at the harbor,
I take photographs in case one day my memory should fail.
It has been over ten years now, still smiling as I close my eyes,
remembering the two whales side by side, a goodbye from each with a wave of their tail.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Blue Bisque and Silk Flowers



A shattered vase upon the floor,
picking up pieces of blue bisque,
silk flowers rest there with it, never dying,
unharmed amongst broken shards,
unafraid of pain or the risk.
An empty bed,
dreaming compassion rests in the voided place,
a tear,
wiping in a smile,
sad,
visions of a happier face.
Angry words,
soft comforting ones, a hand there to hold.
Wanting warmth,
in the midst of…
cold.
Weak, becomes strong,
love becoming bitter,
because the love
is all…
wrong.
It takes two hearts to make it,
it takes two to break it,
when love is only granted by one,
it all comes undone.
A risk in love,
to give your all,
picking up pieces of blue bisque,
when the vase shatters in the fall.
Silk flowers,
never wilt, won't die,
an irony, and maybe blue bisque tears,
but a silk flower love am I.


Sunday, November 1, 2009

Cold Warmth

He screamed loudly, his voice echoing across the snowy mountains,
as tears fell from his eyes, tasting the stinging salt upon his lips,
chapped and bleeding from the cold harsh weather, for far too long.
He could still see the color of her magenta suit behind him,
blurred and nearly snowblind,
the sun, the only warmth, now setting, his sense of direction seemed wrong.
He trembled, stumbled, carried onward, tumbled,
questioning, angry, would he ever make it back to be by her side.
Feet frost-bitten in boots meant to withstand sub-zero temperatures,
the pain unbearable, though thoughts upon her, his forever bride.
He formed a tunnel in the snow bank,
somehow managed to spark a small fire from branches found,
inside he made his bed,
upon the icy white ground.
He awoke to a voice, echoing down from the mountains above,
calling, tears falling, the words of his love.
She made her way to this place he slept,
the sun melting the snow around them,
a kiss of warmth moistened his chapped lips,
forever together,
a promise kept.
The hawk screams loudly, his call echoing over the land,
tall green grasses dance, as the last of the frost disappears,
they walk together hand in hand,
this forever love, the earth hears.


Browse My Blog