Tender plumeria blossoming in the late-spring heat.
Their five-petaled flowers slowly unwind and spread out like the sun’s rays.
Yellow and white and pink and orange line our walkway.
Their delicate blooms dance in the afternoon drizzle,
the raindrops roll down the massive leaves.
As the rains grow heavy, the flowers yield,
falling to the ground leaving an aisle of heady fragrance,
With nothing more to do until another round of buds come in.
Every morning should start like this.
No alarms blaring, just pure bliss.
Birds sing out from the trees in glee,
while I brew up his coffee and my tea.
Some toast with jam in my hand,
And a comfy place to land.
Nature is where I fit in,
This is how every day should begin.
The sun hid from view with not much to say.
The skies turned from a brilliant blue to a hazy gray.
Leaves on the poplar and oaks turned up.
Tree trunks swayed as the winds picked up.
Droplets began to fall, lightly at first, wetting the deck.
Little kisses from the sky, a bushel and a peck.
The birds and the squirrels hid while the heavens poured.
And we listened to the tin roof sing as the rains roared.
Oh, beautiful flowers all abloom
Glistening in the streaming sunlight.
What are you my delicate white and pinks?
Clusters and clumps line the gravel drive,
More of your blossoms on the trails.
We surrender to you, mountain laurel.
The hoot of an owl, off in the distance, calls out in the night.
The fresh spring leaves quiver in the gentle breeze,
As the cool air settles on the mountainside.
Nestled in our treehouse, high among the branches,
The forest sings our souls to sleep.
Years of self-induced torment lay at her feet.
Ripped to shreds are thoughts of doubt and fear.
Torn to pieces are the self-loathing and apologetic existence.
Torched and burned until only embers and ash remain.
From the smoke, she rises renewed to face another day.
With heavy wings, he begins to take flight.
Finding his rhythm, the air lifts him out of the water below.
He floats above the crest of a swelling wave.
Watching for his morning meal,
he soars up in the air, circling, circling.
He stretches his neck as he begins to plummet back to the ocean.
Crashing, splashing, and catching his prey.
Breakfast is served.
We each are mirrors, infinity bounces between, no end in sight.
Seemingly no beginning either, unless you turn.
Turn away from your mirror, face the sun, feel the warmth.
Reflect the light and illuminate your world.
Show your deeds, your heart, your smile.
Live your life.
Turn to your mirror for a reality check,
but don’t stay too long.
You may lose yourself in your mirror,
Never finding the beginning.
Never finding the end.
The world turns into a funhouse,
creating madness, getting lost in its maze.
Shattering your mirror will bring only bad luck,
sometimes a mirror needs to stand alone.
Her brown eyes looked at his, filled with tears.
His brown eyes were black as coal and cold.
Once where love glistened and glowed, there was no more.
Her voice quivered, she knew it was over, but she wondered,
What did I do wrong? Wasn’t I patient and kind?
Didn’t I show him how much I loved him?
How I’d stand by him through anything?
His voice was icy and distant. It’s me, not you.
She knew things weren’t right for a while.
She thought it was wedding jitters; she’d had her own.
The first cracks appeared months earlier.
She came back in his life, a sweetheart from childhood,
add on top of that, their families were friends.
It burst wide open a week after her 30th.
She sat there in her nightshirt, broken.
Her life shattered, her future plans destroyed.
Her life reset to those days she had in college,
when serious heartbreak was fresh and new.
This one was harder, as there was more,
a home and finances to work through.
It wouldn’t be ripping off a bandaid,
but rather a slow, painful torture taking months.
But, she not only survived, she eventually thrived.
It wasn’t until years later she would realize,
he had set her free.
~DRM~
As National Poetry Month comes to a close, I would like to thank everyone who has read and liked my poetry and various posts this April. I also appreciate the kind comments made.
There have been days I searched for inspiration, and others where it came easily. I enjoyed every moment through this journey and appreciate having this platform to share. If you participated as well, I hope you unleashed unfathomable amounts of creativity on your side.
The frequency of my posts will likely slow down in the coming weeks — work demands, which pays the bills, and other obligations are expected to take more of my time. Why is it we sacrifice our creative outlets when other demands increase? However, I hope you’ll continue to check in and enjoy what comes out of this brain in the future. Who knows what I will come up with!
For those creators out there, keep writing, keep creating, keep dreaming…the possibilities are endless.
Gratefully,
~DRM~
Dawn Renee Writes 