New Every Morning
Every day is a fresh beginning,
Listen my soul to the glad refrain.
And, spite of old sorrows
And older sinning,
Troubles forecasted
And possible pain,
Take heart with the day and begin again.
~ Susan Coolidge.
Artist Bettina Baldassarri
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/Snowwolfswoodlandnook/
December is the month I reserve for reviewing my current year’s progress. I work on big dreams, setting audacious goals, and plotting a strategy to move toward my desired destination. One area I have been analyzing is the number of books I read. This year’s total was abysmal, by my standards. Then, I started thinking about my online reading. I access blogs, emails, newsletters, essays, reviews, and how-to instructions on my laptop or phone, but I don’t include those documents in my goal count. It’s ridiculous.
In the past, I carried physical novels for my downtime, but books are heavy. My cell, tucked in my pocket, is ready to provide me with educational material or a blank screen for my writing. While I enjoy a real book, with my busy life, having one handy is not practical. Dedicating large chunks of time to curl up with a favorite read to…
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Their eyes met
Across the way
Last rays of light
The end of day
Fire and ice
Had come to play
For them true love
Was the only way
First they embrace
Then a passionate kiss
This was the start
A perfect bliss
Together they stayed
Forever they played
Ice and fire
Seekers of love
And true desire
Reading
Books and letters
Dyed in the voice
Of the writer
Words are dancing
Carried in echos
Sentences wake up
In the wind of breathed words
Melodies on the swing
Up and down
Vibrating air
Changing pitches
Heart breathes rhythm
Stays attuned
Imaginations arises
Memories alive
Sound alters emotions
Singing content
Song of being
Melody between reading and writing
Colourful tones, living words
DidiArtist, 12.02.2018
Today’s Word of the Day is Ocean.
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The Rain is Running
It seems to be getting Heavier
Drip, Drops, Pouring Rain
Hours have Passed
Listen
There is a steady Beat
The Rain is like Music
Composing beautiful Lyrics
In the state between sleep and wake
traversing birth and death
there is the faintest hint of earthy candles
macabre dreams interrupted by the
strophe of sonnets, a sensation of
spilling pearls like tiny moons falling
through my open palm.
At the boundaries I find you
not your spirit or rose tinged snow
but flesh and bone.
I am sleeping less now
roused by the wing beats of boreal owls
circling an ancient Cypress,
their knife edge talons entwined in sprays
of silky moss clinging to knotty branches.
Fitful wind gusts burst through barriers of
creaking walls vibrating my hemispheres into
consciousness. A celestial tapestry of recollection
lifts me over the valley to a moonlit hillside
of sweet lea where a silver wolf lies down beside me.
He is the scent of golden wheat and
his eyes are the color of the eastern sky.
Poem Attribution © goffjamesart/photography/poetry
Click here to read more haiku poems by Goff James.
Image Attribution © Edward F Cardini, Park Bench, (Date Unstated)
Source Attributionhttps://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Park-Bench/955390/3364527/view
dreams of isolation
a cerebral pull
to a secluded island
a craving for solitude
choosing peace
and nature
escaping to freedom
and bliss
white smooth perfection
envelopes my feet
as i walk
to the horizon
pristine water
saturates my pores
cleans my soul
i’m weightless, so calm
carried away
on the whim of the ocean
the loud silence of the waves
pushing me further to tranquility
I own the perfect island.
Hey Baby…
Imagine my… This
Wrapped around your huge… That
As I purr in your lap
Like a good kitty cat
I know just what you need
What your… That wants to feel
So let’s touch and be dirty
It’s This Time
for Real
