The
lampposts
.
.
are
invisible
.
.
in
this mist
.
.
and
so the
.
.
haloed
bulbs,
.
.
floating,
glow:
.
.
UFOs
above
.
.
the
road.
.
.
.
The
lampposts
.
.
are
invisible
.
.
in
this mist
.
.
and
so the
.
.
haloed
bulbs,
.
.
floating,
glow:
.
.
UFOs
above
.
.
the
road.
.
.
.
My Christmas lights
are stars reflected
in a black lake
My Christmas lights
are the twinkle
in laughing eyes
My Christmas lights
are glistening in
your smile.
grey flannel hills
dusted with powder sky
above steel blue water
I believed,
I really did.
I told myself,
‘It will be.”
But I hoarded words.
I wished,
I wondered,
I waited.
I held my words tightly.
It is bold
to send words away
to find their friends.
But when words
are shared
worlds are opened
to new horizons.
Life lifts off
when we believe
in our words,
and set them free.
turning pages
story unfolds
redirected
reinvented
rising action
turning pages
new narrative
next adventure
climax
turning pages
volume 2
life unfolds
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
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).
The lake
is a puddle of pink paint
reflecting clouds glistening Klimt gold
in a sky fixated on fuchsia.
The sun departs
leaving snowy hills
blushing

Shawn Bird is an author, poet, and educator in the beautiful Shuswap region of British Columbia, Canada. She is a proud member of Rotary.