Warmly Dressed ~

A small boy, warmly dressed 
ran out into the snow and was caressed 
by its soft and chilling white 
then got into a snowball fight ~

A young lad bound for school 
plodded through the pristine cool
with thoughts of classmates on his mind
he left his footfalls etched behind ~

A young man was stalled in his car 
his job awaited him afar 
he could not make the usual trip 
for he was a victim of the winter's grip ~

An older man, now retired 
shoveled a pathway through his yard 
the winter to him was a discomforting thing 
his thoughts were on the warmth of spring ~

An ancient man through his window peered 
his eyes turned red, then lightly teared 
he remembered he had once been blessed 
he had been a small boy, warmly dressed ~
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am taking a break from blogging for the rest of November.
Life is just so busy and I need time to take care of some important events.
See you in December.
Peace and joy to all of my blogger friends.
I have met so many wonderful people since I have come back to blogging.
Thanks to everyone for taking the time to visit me and leave your comments.

Love ...
Margie 

Beautiful Frail Things ~

I have drunk joy today

I have mastered fate

I have known what it is 

to conquer and create ~

Sometimes I ask myself 

after days like this 

have I any longer need 

of his sweet, tender kiss?

But when I see tired eyes a

quickened with light 

as a lover's footstep 

sounds through the night 

or when I hear a little child 

laughing alone

telling what it may be 

when it is grown 

then I no longer doubt 

that my love must be: 

beautiful frail things 

have need of me ~ 

________________________________

~ photo is my friend Lorraine's 

thanks Lorraine for letting me use your photo ~ 

Where the Poems Sleep ~

To the elves and unicorns, though unseen, forever by my side 

There is a dark place where poems hide 

safely kept down deep inside 

curled - sleeping like the fog

they doze within a fallen log 

past the waterfalls and ferns 

past the meadows that burn

with colors dancing late at night 

that wake the sun at dawn's first light 

lost within the caverns low 

where not even goblins dare to go 

surrounded in what once was a dream 

wrought in ink - the poems now stream 

like water over fallen tree

erase your cage - set wishes free

and remember - by day or night 

a poem is never far away 

where safe the ancient pages keep 

where the dreams dance and the poems sleep 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

poetry is an essence most remarkable. Through the weaving verses 

and flowing rhyme, from word to word and line to line, a poem is 

such a magical thing, from its heart our souls can sing. Poetry in

motion, a veritable sea, poetry is in our hearts, poetry is free.

Unfettered and unchained, it lives, our link to other worlds , the sail 

on a mighty ship on the mast unfurls. Poetry unites us, poetry is our 

sun. Poetry un-blinds us, poetry makes us one. Poetry is an essence 

most remarkable. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

photo is my husband's 

Yes, my Answer is Yes ~

and  I shall marry you again - in the springtime - my love
our vows of love renewed -  through eternity - 

You are all my little life can hold

I've brought you up before my jury 

time and sense and sensibility 

and both my arms and both my hands 

and these two eyes that long to see your face 

have found you in a necessary place  ~

Your light blocks out the view 

your sun outshines the rest

upon the threshold of my heart 

you are the only guest 

and the last and that shall always be 

you and ours are all my life will want to hold

eternally ~

Beside Sonnet ~

In her hospital whisper - 'I'm dying'
her eyes tearing - her long days breath sour 
tugging and tumbling in the quietest hour 
'there, there' -  like to a baby I'm cooing ~

how do I comfort her when I am leaving?
picture bills stacked on the kitchen counter 
the third hinge - should I remind her now or
wait to tell her the side gate needs mending?

'there, there' - my words touch her here 
in this world and me tasting the thought 
of someone else comforting her when I am gone ~

words sink in - I hear myself say - 'there, there'
stiffen at the emptiness time has bought
starring at the wall - lachrymose and mournful ~

--------------------------------------------------
In 2006 I lost a very dear friend to cancer
I miss her daily 
So many days and nights I sat by her side when she was in hospice 
I wrote this poem the day before my friend Mary left me 
She was a treasured friend and is now a treasured memory ~

Words ~

Over and under

above and beyond 

words are like geese 

as they wing from the pond 

exquisitely lovely, incredibly soft

carrying the mystery 

of language aloft ~

words filled with gravel 

those coated to soothe 

wretchedly harsh 

asthetically smooth 

phlegmatically stolid 

shamelessly bold 

lavishly rich 

piercingly cold 

whimsical, literal, sensitive sound 

words are the history 

to which we are bound ~

-------------------------------

my husband is the photographer 

one of my most favorite photos 
his photos speak to me of beauty 
as do his words ~

First Light ~

At the first light the scene changes 

the darkness and shadows fade slowly 

and with that fading go the fears 

of the quiet, ominous night ~

on the terrace the dew is heavy 

and the light gleams of the silvery line 

soft sounds of people waking 

rustle of sheets and eyes opening ~

river sounds, leaves becoming aware 

of sunlight and a light breeze ~

angels that flew down last night 

and ministered to the lonely 

to the sad and fearful 

have closed their eyes 

and tucked in their wings 

they fade slowly 

into the brightening light ~
---------------------------------------
photo was taken at Garden of the Gods, Colorado Springs. Co.
one of the most beautiful places in the world ~

Love ~

Love
delicate as a slender 
thread of dew
upon the grass ~

lace of cobwebs 
shattered by a broom 
milkweed pods 
that fly before the wind 
rose petals 
falling in a heated room ~

love 
strong as the skein 
that binds my life 
to yours ~

your steady heartbeat 
underneath my head 
my arms to take
your love
and hold it close 
through rides of dreams 
till we as one awake ~

-----------------------------------

 After over thirty years of marriage my love for him
is enduring and more beautiful than it was the day we married.
He makes my heart go pitter patter every day of my life!

Friendship ~

I see you

though years have passed 

there's just a smile 

between the days 

I hear the words 

that touch the soul 

before the sound ~

If I should call 

I know you'd come 

although "I need you"

wasn't said 

there are no trumpeters

who walk before a friend ~

A life is full 

of many rooms 

with doors that swing 

both to and fro 

a friend can open up 

the locks 

without a key ~

_____________________________________________

I have known my friend Melissa (pictured with me here)

since 1991, we both moved to Colorado the same year.

We became instant friends.

I miss seeing her as much as I used to when we lived 

in the same city but she's not too far to visit 

and I know our friendship is for always!

It is truly a blessing to be friends with Melissa.

(photo was taken in Moab, Utah, Arches National Park  
we shared a vacation there in 2011) 

Credo ~

Infinite is the capacity 

to think, to feel, to leap 

winsome as a fawn

thunderous as a waterfall 

 in early morning eyes 

lying dreamily by your side 

in stars of softness pouring skies of light 

in mountain skies

blue and full with nature's own forgiveness 

in all the presents wrapped with divinity's ribbons 
I believe ~ 

---------------------------------------------------

Thanks to my friend Lorraine for the use of her photo

www.photosandstuffl.blogspot.com

The Dancer ~

Good morning, Mother Sun, did you sleep well? 
You look rested and bright this morning 
arriving with such a colorful display.

Your husband's work last night was wonderful
though he was upstaged by the stars 
until the fog took its seat in the balcony.

You two are a funny couple 
modern in your parenting arrangement 
with his insomnia, it is only natural
him watching the children while they sleep.

I am always inspired by the pas de deux 
when he glows on the edge of the stage 
while you hover above the symphony
in your brilliant act of illumination. 

Do you tire, Mother? You're beginning to sink 
will you indulge us with a colorful finale?
Ah, the prima donna, you captivate us.
A breathtaking performance, graceful curtsy 
you disappear behind a black velvet horizon.  

But, never a curtain call, how hard we clap.

(wildflowers are from my garden)

Epitaph ~

If as an epitaph to me
you write, 
"she was good at parties
 talked left and right 
 at dinner 
smiled at bores 
and made her hostess laugh"
I'll surely read the words ~

Or if you say, 
"she could be outspoken 
  but she didn't lie 
  didn't vacillate to please the crowd 
  people knew just where she stood 
  but there was room to pass around." 
  I'll hear the words ~

But if you show 
you think of me 
by saying nothing to a crowded room 
but miss me 
when the lilacs bloom 
when the first snowflakes fall 
I'll know you loved me 
best of all ~ 

Sweet Time ~

Sweet time, exaggerated days 

early beginning at dawn's light 

silent time on the edge of dark 

angels singing quietly, watching 

mankind, throw back the covers 

first sunrays strike my face 

topping the crest over the valley 

sky, rose- streaked coral 

wide awake, wild canaries hail me 

umbilical cord tying me to heaven 

logic eludes me on such a morn 

but the exotic and prickly sense 

of pulsating, throbbing life

impinges, bombards from my toes 

to my astonished eyes 

my heartbeat up several notches 

smiles cavorting 

salivating touch and texture 

rough as tree bark, smooth silk 

aroma, lavender and wild roses 

in the liquid silence, I stand 

stretch, acknowledge this new day

this brand new, beautiful day!
----------------------------------------

photo is my friend Lorraine's 

thank you for allowing me to use it

www.photosandstuffl.blogspot.com 

Lines To My Daughter ~

My daughter

I would place a shining token 

in your hand tonight

not wrought of silver ~  neither yet of gold 

for silver tarnishes and gold is bought 

my gift must be of substance 

shining stuff from which my dreams of you are made 

its center and circumference is love

without love one cannot be part of pain 

or glory or of lilting laughter 

it must be tinted with the flush of early dawn 

as on the day you came to me 

all blanketed in newness 

with the star-dust of eternity

within your eyes ~  so strangely used to seeing 

encircling it ~  there is a mist of blues 

the blue of evening when we watched 

the quiet stars appear ~ the smiling blues of April 

when we sought the first green tender bud 

and there is just a trace of blues or grayish cast 

when in our hearts and all about  ~ showers threatened 

and you'd lay your hand protectingly in mine 

over all there is the peace of cloistered pools 

I'd sit upon a rock ~  while you

would place your firm dancing toes into the stream
and laugh ~ and laughing nourish me!

much more I'd offer you ~  my daughter 

courage, constancy and faith 

but these are not my gifts to give 

but His who gave to me ~  the gift 

of the utter loveliness of you!

Bright Magic ~

Your intellect 

could clip the substance 

of my words 

in half 

finish off the circle 

that I thought was square 

find the answer 

where I didn't look 

reduce my mind 

to jelly made of tears 

Instead ...

you make my shadows 

into shapes 

my words to phrases

full of thought 

my tongue turns readily to wit 

until I wonder 

where my substance hid 

'til I met you.
---------------------------------------

... and he is also an amazing photographer 

photo is his ...

For a Good Friend ~

How nice to sit with you 
over a cup of coffee
and not have to say anything

How good that you 
do not try to entertain me
or pass the quiet time 
by a lot of chatter 

How restful that
you do not care 
what the neighbors are doing
nor would you tell me 
if they did hold your interest briefly 

Even if I might be annoyed with you
you never hold a grudge 
but only look 
to our resumed friendship 
waiting patiently for me
to make a move 
to show I'm feeling better 

I appreciate 
your lack of criticism 
and your apparent forgetfulness 
when I have forgotten 
to show you my love

I too will try 
to be more patient 
when you prefer to ---

---------------------------------

dig in the flowers
chase the squirrels
or bark at the neighbor's cat! 

Spoons ~

Why in books do lovers sleep like spoons

as though one life could curl so close 

against another

sleep without the turning of a leg 

the cramping of an arm?

no spoon would have your neck 

your ears to tickle with the warmth of breath 

your shoulders waiting to be hugged 

until you turn to catch the lips

that linger on your back

thrust all thoughts of sleep 

into a drawer with silver spoons ~

photo is from pxleyes.com

Midnight Visitor ~

when the clouds have wrapped around the night 

and trees have caught the stirring of the wind

across his sleep the dog has smelled the rain 

felt the currents of a summer storm ~

before a human ear has caught the tone

of thunder as it moves around the sky 

he twitches in his dream and starts to moan 

shivers march in furrows down his back ~

a cold nose burrows underneath my hand 

paws are planted firmly on the bed

terror's language I can understand 

take the paws and stroke the noble head ~

--------------------------------------------------------------

last evening, heavy rains, thunder and lighting woke us all up around midnight

Jake had a difficult time with all of it

comforting him ~  he slept soundly ~  cozied up next to me ~ 
(this is one of my favorites photos of Jake, so peaceful)

Our Kingdom ~

it was just us in our kingdom 

a simple courtyard of cool green grass

encircled by cream colored concrete that was 

toasted warm in the afternoon sun

and chilled in the pale indigo evenings ...

in our kingdom 

we were superheroes with beach-

towel capes and pine cone grenades ...

we were princesses with clover crowns 

and 25¢ lip gloss 

sometimes we would sit barefoot in the dewy 

summer grass and watch with popsicles bleeding 

their sugary nectar over our scraped 

knuckles as shades of evening rolled over 

the oranges ... yellows ... and purples of a fading 

sunset 

we were all alone then:

my friend and I ... all alone in our own 

kingdom ~ 

______________________________________

this is dedicated to my childhood friend Monica

who died at the tender age of 14

she drowned as her dad tried to rescue her from an undercurrent

it was one of the saddest days of my life!

dear friend, I wish you were still here but 
you are never far from my thoughts and missed always ~ 

Loneliness ~

Loneliness:

a winding sheet

of sorrow 

has bound my heart 

today ... tonight ... tomorrow 

a chill 

that wraps around 

my arms 

and holds me close 

to be downcast and morose

an ache 

so fierce 

it surely would be seen 

but everyone has gone 

the room swept clean ...

____________________________________________

This was written when my son went off to college 

My heart was so heavy with his being gone.

I had a great friend that helped me through 

those hard days of missing my son. (my husband) 

My son has finished his studies and has a great job.

He lives close by now and I see him often.

I am truly blessed ...