July 26, 2011

B for Blaue Blume

~*Blaue Blume*~
(Blue Flower) 

Against the field it grows, gritty,
and I look down, filled with pity
at a green sprout, beauty its shield.
It grows, gritty, against the field

In a concrete fissure, it grows.
Below the sun it will repose;
through cyclic time it will venture.
It grows in a concrete fissure.

Blue’s the color, blue is the view,
grey is the sky as it’s askew.
It grows taller, life span smaller.
Blue is the view; blue’s the color
.

July 18, 2011

A for Angelic

~*Angelic*~

Lay down on your pillow
and turn the lights down low
let me take you to the garden
where the passion flower grows

Close your eyes and enter dreams
as love's emotion sets the scene
and glitters through the garden
where the passion flower grows

Touch the tender petals
of the flower as she grows
a tentative endeavor
as your feelings overflow

Let me draw you to the place
where ecstasy can be embraced
the beauty of the garden
where the passion flower grow.

July 10, 2011

Z for Zesty

~*Zesty*~
(zesty= full of zest, energetic, active)
There are treasures in life,
But owners are few
Of money and power
To buy things brand new.
And feel regal too,
Yet you can be wealthy
If you will just look
For the treasures in you.
are not hard to find
These treasures in life
When you look in your heart,
Your soul, and your mind.
For when you are willing
To share what’s within,
Your fervent search
for riches will end.
The joy and the laughter,
the smile that you bring;
The heart unafraid
to love and to sing;
The hand always willing
to help those in need;
Ones quick to reach out,
to labor and fee.
So thank you for sharing
these great gifts inside;
The caring, the cheering,
the hug when one cried.
Thanks for the energy,
encouragement too,
And thank you for sharing
The treasures in you.

July 03, 2011

Y for Yellow

~*Yellow*~

Hunger conquers. Love considers.
As life concedes and pain bewilders.
Anguish strips us of our shielding.
Cold. Relentless. Ever-wielding.
Yet we let the anguish pass
Forget, and hide amongst the mass.
Even I who swore to never
Seek cold comfort, cruel forever;
Even I found yellow rest,
In the days upon my nest,
Long descended from the sky,
Angry when the night asked why.