little memories

glorious is the mornings awakening

and mine ears are fancied by  music
echoing soft violin strings of Mozart’s soul

the day still is dark of its nocturnal sleep

as i reflect upon the juxtaposed stories
in my dreams and i hearken a new day

my body lies still, consumes the last morsels

of night slumber and avails itself of
the comforts beset in this restful nest

when i rise my steps will stroll amidst

the rustling and voices from afar,
the rumbling tires from a passing car,   
a canine friend barking in the morning mist

i listen to the sounds sometimes

thinking i hear the sun rising
as a breeze shakes the leaves of trees,
humming of the bumble bees
and petals of flowers stretching
for the warmth of its embrace

when once again the moon smiles at me

and mine eyes take pleasure in observing
Orion’s belt bending and dipping
with Ursa Major trying to entice
Draco into a dance as Sirius looks on

my soul will soon travel into their space

my heart will be interned in the arms
of Earth leaving memories my eyes beheld,
my ears heard, the smell of roses,
the tears and the smiles my heart has felt

into thy arms you lift me

   in your embrace i shall whisper
   …no regrets, for my time here is spent
            where i have gathered many flowers
                  and left planted seeds for a garden to grow
 

*dedicated to a friend and her husband who have been told she has but four months left here with us   

 

northern wind

spring, when it arrives brings enlightenment,

refreshes my soul
but when Autumn ascends it envelops
my being with introspection

i see change before my eyes

where bright greens, reds and yellows
turn to browns, auburns and russets
the strong stout arms of trees
become brittle and their thistle, tassels and
leafy garb drop covering their rooted toes

the warm breath of summer

now bristles with cool in the mornings,
the days are powdered with grey
and the wind blows down
from the northern sky

this brings me to notice that time

now running quicker as dusk to dawn
seem to arrive closer and all else 
moves at a pace of languor  

i pause to cherish the change

yet the quibble within me is of the
notion that my wish of loving and
being loved is not slowed by the winds
of the north

and while i sit alone pondering

lifes’ moment, somewhere in the
distant not of place or time,
all of this will not have been
in vain