Come check out Natalie’s blog Sacred Touches – We miss you Natalie – RIP!
* My mom was an eloquent writer–an artist with words. * My mom was a gardener–waiting and working expectantly for spring and the roses that abound in her yard right now. *My mom was pho…
Source: My mom Natalie | Sacred Touches
Easy, flexible and proven-delicious ideas for breakfast, soup, sides, mains and 10-minute desserts. All free from gluten, eggs, dairy and cane sugar.
Beautiful girl
She danced a circle dance for the moon and the stars.
Her hair flowed freely in the warm nightly breeze.
I told the kind moon, thank you for sending me the gift of kind and gentle woman.
She came closer to me and she whispered. “The sea is alive tonight. The dancing waves and the goddess of the sea demand dance, embrace and sweet kisses. ” She took my hands and I held her soft body near and we did a midnight waltz for the spirits dancing with us near the Pacific ocean.
She made no promises to me, but her tender kisses made my dead heart come alive. Made me wish we could be like new lovers trying to take in the night and find secret places where lovers seek and know true and free comfort.
I told her. Sweet girl. You made my wishes and dream…
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I dreamed of you
I remember Paris. You were in your perfect place and free. Your mind running wild in the beauty of the old city of Paris. The kind, City of lights.
We became part of the midnight myths and we danced where Hemingway lived his books. We create our places with the ancient lovers finding dance and song inviting hot and dangerous nights.
You told me. “I want lover’s tryst and to have the vagabond heart. Love should be set in motion for us to be serenaded by sensuous kiss and wicked embrace seen by the Paris moon. I want us enraged with explosive lovemaking. Making the sleeping Gods come alive my Johnnie.”
Exquisite beauty danced for me by the lights of the candles. The open windows allowed us to see the Paris lights. I watched her dance to the song of Leonard Cohen. “A thousand kisses deep.”
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Its easy for anyone to tell you they love you
Anyone can flatter you and tell you youre beautiful
Anyone can make you smile and happy
Anyone can promise you the world
And the stars and the finest things of life
But I dont want to be anyone; I want to be the one,
The one who makes you wake up smiling,
The who motivates you to meet your soul,
The one to bring heaven on Earth for you,
The one to make you do,
The emotional work of self discovery and awakening,
You are my love,
You are my friend, my lady,
And one day the mother of my children
In you I have seen my future,
And in the glow of your eyes and your smile
I know that I found my soulmate
You entered my life through a ray of sun above,
And when we leave, we…
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I saw her there
Alone on the dance floor
Swaying to the music
She sure looked good
As she moved to the Blues
She always loved the beat of the Blues
As we danced together
But tonight we were both alone
A cool wind had
Come between us
And had blown out the flames
Of what once was our love
She still danced though
And I still stood and watched
I felt a tear
Slide down my cheek
She sure looked good
Swaying to the Blues
~The Tennessee Poet~
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Chartreuse memories
of a childhood holding firm
to the tender things
This Haiku is three of five that were created for a submission with pureHaiku called Unfurling.
I’ll post the remaining two next week.
Texas bars and Texas women
(A old poem written in 1993. When I roam the Texas as a young man.)
The Doctor told me.
“You are damn healthy.
You must take care of your self.”
I smiled.
I’m thinking about those Long Island ice teas down at the shot bar
that would be enjoying in downtown Austin tonight.
I buried my third brother in a lonely grave in 1990.
They didn’t do a lot of good living.
They were like babies dying before learning how to live.
Hank William Jr. is singing in the background,
“Why do we drink. Why do we smoke”.
I drink to missed friends,
I drink to beautiful women,
I drink for my brother’s.
I smiled at pretty, young Austin’s girls.
Tall, long legs, and filled with the spirit to celebrate life.
My good luck of being station in Texas.
Nothing better then the Texas two…
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Dead man arms
Once the bravest man on the block, he loved the darkest girl on the dead-end street. Her eyes, blackest eyes, he had ever seen.
In the deadly days of his wars, the dead soldiers showed more light than her sleeping soul could feel.
He sought the darkness of his world and the darkness found him. He wrote to the girl with the hair of auburn and the pale skin of white. I understand your turmoil and how twisted the world can be.
Abigail wrote him back, Dear Johnnie, if you believe in the lullabies and the happy ending tales. You will know distaste and disappointment. I am here for you and I will accept love from the sleeping man. The dead man arms, I shall fall. I left a alive rose for you and I am waiting.
With love Abigail
He arrived at…
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She let every him in, her body wasn’t admired,
like a canvas that was ruined before.
Brush that poked her, damaged her
like a knife that was just there to cut.
Held many hands at night, she was left when the things were done.
It wasn’t her choice to be there, to live,
to survive in a place that wasn’t her chosen world.
But when he looked into her eyes,
he saw discomfort, of letting everybody touch her,
a flower that was in somebody’s garden has survived
even when it wasn’t favourable.
Asked her to cover her up, with all that she had,
she took her moms stole and said I am done.
Where were you all the time, she looked at him with love,
The guilt in his eyes showed,
he so wanted her to breathe the air that was missing in her life
Suffocation that hit her so…
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The Reluctant Poet 