You illuminate my life
like Christmas lights.
You create happiness
in bright coloured bulbs
You saturate my senses
like season’s greetings
You fill my whole being
with happy holidays
poem- first snow December 1, 2013
I wake to
the scrape of the snow shovel
below my window,
and the rumble of
the plow on the road.
The air is white
with winter
now.
poem-false November 30, 2013
They lie
across my lids
stuck like caterpillars
Coyly magnifying
each magnificent blink,
each flirtatious flutter,
adding power to each
sultry glower,
Prepare prey
to be ensnared,
enter and be
rendered helpless,
as I flash
these false
eyelashes.
.
Today is hubby’s birthday, and I managed to get these lashes back on (last worn on my birthday, see photo above). They’re fun, but they sure feel weird! 😉
poem- kind light November 29, 2013
She is full
of dark visions.
She wears
prickly armour,
of protruding spikes .
She shows a
black expression
daring you to come closer
but you step
into her darkness,
with a candle of consideration
share her visions
and show her
what kindness looks like.
.
.
(For Robin, just one of my many amazing teacher colleagues).
poem- fiery eyes November 19, 2013
Mist drifts on snowy mountains,
slash piles burning:
molten eyes in a ghostly face
glowing above us
poem- hills aflame November 13, 2013
Through the blackness
glow scarlet gashes on the mountain
Drivers on the winding highway
sniff the smoke , entranced
by danger dancing above
.
.
It’s hard to keep your eyes on the road when the hills above you are blazing!
It’s also nerve-wracking for an asmatic to be anywhere near burning, controlled or not. (and we think this was controlled).
poem- if November 5, 2013
If he loved her,
….she thinks
he would greet her every day
with a heart heating hug
with a spine kindling kiss
with glowing eyes.
If he loved her,
….she thinks
he would bid her sleeping form farewell
with grieving eyes
with cuddling kiss
with a heart felt hug
longing to remain.
If he loved her,
….she thinks
he would harness his white horse
unsheath his sword,
charge down her demons,
She doesn’t see,
that he is her champion,
if he sees who she is
and stays to fight for her
when she’s not looking.
She doesn’t see,
that he loves her.
poem- reminiscence November 2, 2013
.
The rain on this sky light
makes me long for
pattering on the tin roof,
a warm wood stove,
old friends
from then.
.
.
Ah. Our lovely acreage house when the kids were little, life was simpler, and close friends were near.
Oh look! It was for sale again! http://pglistings.ca/buy/17360_Woods_Road Wow. We purchased it for $126k in 1993. I personally tiled that fireplace and hung that (very dated!) oak towel ring in the upstairs bathroom. Lots is new though- from the beige everywhere to the wood floors and the side deck (built just as we’d envisioned it). I miss the stairs at the front of the deck to the front door- it’s weird to only have the back stairs! We also planted several dozen baby pine trees that are now 20 feet tall across the front and along the drive way. I wonder where their living room furniture is? >>sigh<< Such a beautiful place. Sometimes I still dream of this house.
poem- grey
Seven days
since you promised,
the grey cloak
over the hills
offers no warmth
for my wishful heart.
poem- perspective October 31, 2013
Honey lips
wake me
to a dreamy reality:
Unexpected pleasures,
moonlight impressions.
Your laughter
invites me to discover
a new perspective.
.
Shawn L. Bird 