The Clichés of Chick Flicks

oil and water
polarized
irritants
under the skin

back to back
stiff shouldered
defiance

anger’s passion
bursts into flame
consuming walls
of separation

melting away
divisions
igniting
love’s fire

sealed with a kiss

always meant
to be

same old story
same old lie

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Love Affair

I heard the beating of your heart,
and the rhythm enthralled me.

The pattern rolled upward on the crest of a wave,
as it reached towards the sky,

then the beat slowed, became hushed,
as the surf washed gently over the sand.

Such passion…
accompanied by such peace.

I launched by myself
to surf upon your waves,

rising with you on the highest crests
and resting in your arms as we swept up on the shore.

My fresh water keel licked at your salty brine
and I felt your laughter echo off my hull.

We frolicked under sunny skies that warmed
the surface, and denied the coldness of your depths.

The red sky of evening sought to warn us,
but we glanced away, pretending not to see.

Winds plunged your waves to the depths.
My weathered planks were beaten in the storm.

Together we crashed upon the jagged rocks,
splintered wood and frothing angry foam.

I lay broken with pieces strewn,
your salty tears dried upon my hull.

I heard you sing a mourning song
in harmony with the wind.

You swept me off the crags;
carried me in your arms.

You sang to me a lullaby,
as I rested in your deep.

Published in: on April 30, 2011 at 9:17 pm  Comments (3)  
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Patchwork for a Princess

Delicate petals of violet blue, strewn along swirling vines,

a floral pattern on white starched cotton.

 

I see her sitting in the front pew, feet swinging;

patent leather shoes topped with white bobby socks;

freckles playing hop scotch across her nose.

 

Stripes: Shades of blue and purple,

some wide, some narrow,

rivers traveling side by side.

 

Her first sewing project was a simple apron,

She wanted ruffles. I’d said, ‘no’.

Sad little tears trickled down her face

 

Soft shimmer of lavender satin slumps

into graceful folds on the glazed tile floor.

 

An orchid tilted its haughty head,

as her wrist reached to rest on the shoulder of his tuxedo.

Did he know he was holding royalty?

 

Floral pieces frolic with childhood innocence

Amongst the stripes of her growing years.

Satin insets are sprinkled throughout

Like the silken petals of a rose, mature in its bloom.

Tender memories are embroidered within

This patchwork for a princess.

A coverlet of Mother’s Love spreads warmth

Across the bridal bed.

 

 

Published in: on December 12, 2010 at 3:35 pm  Comments (4)  
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A Gaze Refocused

The need to see through new eyes what has become too familiar to our own.

Familiar, comfortable, well worn

It is easily overlooked

As it sits there unassuming

near a stack of books

With accustomed gaze refocused

New value is seen within

Weathered finish now uncovered

As an aged glow settles in

A piece of furniture we’d value

If this we now described

But of person close and known to us

We often don’t abide

A chipping at the surface

Often needing to take place

To remind of treasure hidden there

Behind familiar face

Published in: on May 21, 2009 at 11:46 am  Leave a Comment  
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