Peers through Time

Soars above what‘s thought is known
To summon inspires, incurs where ancients wait beneath starry skies
Stirs above tops of trees
sees far beyond
touching wind rushing clouds
protecting how and who we are
tipping into spark fired pots
I meet myself and confide in stepping echoes
fused as one beneath the veil
shifts past adornments of fleur de lis
cresting dares and yes dare we,
a small vase covets a rose
scarlet tipped turns a lock skewed in throes of anquish
but promises not ‘Tu Jour’
traces bloodline of the keepers
parents through aged passages of knowledge
pools into deep wells
peering ripples seeking more and more reveals
hands crossing time
curling beneath weilds waits
resting ready to be plucked
when only the time’s ripe will rose align
where choices proffer bare skinned hands
lined opened offering to choosing dare.

Missed

were you slowing
or was it just imagining
your broad shoulders
leather edged beret
worn at a slant
gaberdine rain mack
belted at the waist
one hand strong
another gnarled
bent and stalled
but still opening stiffened jars
strength of spirit
will of steel
so what happened
how was that real
when you left that day
did she have more appeal
were you so very tired
when she reached out a hand
and you ? did you welcoming smile
I thought you were asleep
but you were beyond stars and miles
~ miss you more than I can say ~

The Spinning Girl

Not even a breezy breath of a blown leaf,
airless shadows confine
caught in a memory of last recall
capturing moment’s struck dumb from confused.
Talking! was talking before blurring loads into shapeless blobs
stretching spun gigantic wheels in red and green spokes
spinning in teacups to never stop
but that was a flash
outside this boxed in build
oblong cramped, crooked,
encircling hoops refusals to churn
movements fixate were naught can grow
if only that wheel would turn
rolling down doors opening
to a whole new world ~
with running streams trickling into lakes and fields ~
~ freeing skin to breathe ~
Smiles dawns radiating glow halos a new day
Every ending begins ~
with daddy’s girl painting worlds with her magic wand
Ties ribbons around hearts ~
directs oceans tides to sweep the greyest clouds ~
wafts a breeze of cotton candy ~ spinning turns wheels ~
churning flickering leaves ~
capturing types cast
in kilter flowing time ~


Featuring Giorgio de Chirico, 'Mystery and Melancholy of a Street'
dVerse Sunday at the pub ~
Happy Sunday wishes ~ cheers!!
)Norb(