Life Content

As Angel looks out
Pout on lip,
Lustre Crème Shampoo drips down on
Deck of ship

She ponders the day,
Pray daughter,
Comfort from the cistern pours out,
Cool water

Below in cabin
Chin held high,
Applies face cream from her blue jar,
Peaceful sigh

In time with the sea
Teapot sways,
Their coffee perking on the stove,
Joyful days

Coming on the breeze
Teasing scent
Of man at rusted tiller wheel,
Life content.

I used the poetic form, "The Memyric", which was invented by Lancelot of Pleiades. See Lancelot's Memyric, the roll. The syllables are 5, 3, 8, 3, with the last word of 5 rhyming with the first of 3 and the two 3's rhyming.
I also used Friday 5 words.

Kiptopeke Breakwater

This is a picture we took last year of part of the concrete ship breakwater off the coast of Kiptopeke Beach, Eastern Shore, VA. In December 1948, nine McCloskey ships were partially sunk to form this ferry breakwater. It is a great place to fish and the breakwater makes a wonderful beach. If this picture sparks any creative notions in you please share.

Twofold Freedom

Clean air envelopes us as only it can out here,
The breeze touches with a tenderness all its own.

Touch creates a blush from within,
Forming in my inner depths, flowing outwardly.

Gliding forward through tranquil waters,
A quiver in the sails improves our progress

Quiet whispers playfully tickle my ear,
While a shiver touches my spine.

Sails are tuned and lines pulled taut,
As the wind paves out unchained roads.

Your embrace shrouds me with love,
Capturing unchained passion in my heart.

Written for Tuesday Title and 3WW.

Honor

As we set aside this day
To honor our veterans,
Keep their memory
Afresh in our mind,
Lest we forget their time.

Some of them have lives
Shattered by actions
Performed on distant shores,
Haunted by images
Not soon forgotten.

Many have walked
The valley of death,
Searching for hope
In an upside down world,
Led by honor and truth.

The fortunate league
To have not seen battle,
Still carry with them
Pride and a hundred tears for
Service to their country.

God, help us remember,
Lest we forget their service
The time they served Us,
For some have given all,
And all Veterans give us honor.

Written for Saturday Scribes prompt.

Picture taken by Scott Clawson at the Warrenton Cemetary in Warrenton, VA.

For a Time

Swirling, twirling
Falling to the ground,
Splashes of color
To the earth they are bound.

For a time they show
Bright beauty of spun gold,
Mingled with crimson and ginger,
Exquisite and bold.

Artwork on a grand scale
Displayed for all,
The very work of the hand
For which they call.

Soul Wanderer

Gently gliding through clouds of newborn stars,
Casting glances back at worlds in translucent darkness,
Riding wings of hope while clutching the mane of destiny,
Softly caressing dreams common to distant travelers.

I travel alone, always looking forward, never behind.
This ship is my home, a refuge in the vast domain.

Listening to echoes of ancient songs in rhythmic time,
Meandering mindless fields of sobering thoughts,
Finding solace in gentle tugs of wayward gravity,
Searching timeless realms of silent wanderings.

My destiny calls me to this realm, once again solo.
This life is my own, a hell of my own creation

Coasting along this thoroughfare which never ends,
Lightly touching the shadows that always surround,
Grasping aimlessly at anchors of uncertain hope,
Looking for even a nuance of recognition in this despair.

Slowly fading, sinking into my own abyss.
All prospects seem to disappear as in a black hole.

Seizing a safe mooring which floats in this gloom,
Remembering hazy whispers of distant arenas of time,
Calmly soothing rough edges of fractured dreams,
Discovering tranquil peace that transcends all ages.

You grab hold, clutching me, securing the line.
Hopelessness fades as I gaze upon your face.

This poem was a collaboration between my husband, Scott and I. His contribution is in italics. Written for 3WW.

Anticipated Return

Once again as the sun doth rise
I see the red music of burning glass,
Images of an epoch far gone, but
Forever etched in my mind.

How did I get to this point?
Where has all the time gone?
Questions never answered, always
Incised on my delicate facade.

Anger, passion, and sadness
All resonate in my head,
Like a chorus of voices mourning,
Lamenting for your return.

I long for your touch
To feel your warm embrace,
Oh, to have you back to be
Captain of only my heart.

But I know, for now
That dread ship has stolen from me
Your attention and time,
And yes, your very spirit.

Each morning I face dawn
Hoping to glimpse the red music,
Not burning or broken, but
Hailing your sweet return.

Written for Tuesday Title

Closing Stages (Duet Ritardando)

Getting older, full of dust
A few broken keys
Altered melody, uneven pitch.

Once majestic, alive with song
Polished, shiny
A sound, joyful and melodic.

Kind, the years were not
Ah, but lovely
Worthy, with pleasant tune.

The journey was weathered
Tempest and gales
Sometimes battered, even worn.

Even so, the music remains sweet
To our mellow ears
Always cherished, forever prized.

A passage full of devotion
Tended, cultivated
A tenderness to be seen.

After all the years, a treasure
Beautiful harmony
Radiates despite the years.

Our Love transcends time
Blinded to flaws
A symphony to our ears.

Written for Monday Mural.