how we planned

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built on

ideas

of tomorrows

when

all the yesterdays

are blind

we plan

draw visions

of hope

in pencil, on

flimsy paper

that afternoons fade

and rains run

crumple

ripped dreams

days end

faded know

things don’t

always

work out

how

we

planned 

The Hold of Time

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On the balcony, overlooking the sea, inside of time,

they drank their tea.  Blessed by orange and gold,

the sun set slowly, holding every moment,

hand in hand, a dream set on repeat.

 

Yesterday came and went, and the ticket remained

on the shelf.  She folded up the sunset with the tea,

inside the hands, palm lines underneath time.

Today is forever remembering tomorrow.

 

six ways of dreaming

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six ways of dreaming

seeing into being

tasting tomorrow like afternoon tea

becoming the waft of lilies float

in the gold of summer air

entwine the voice of trees and birds

with crickets and colors that soar

and feel the reach of sun’s hold

wind’s brush, gravity pull

within, another way

your universe,

a dream away 

swan’s light

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and when she would glide,

remember her white and honest

she tucked beneath her wings,

a trail of glow bloomed beneath

her. float. shine, water angel,

collector of let go dreams, swim

in swirl of come true bright,

flashing believe, keeper of know,

angel wings save sinking hope,

swan’s heart throwing light.

under the oak tree

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little boy and little girl

met under the oak tree.

he gave her the sky

and an empty box.

she put them inside.

closing her eyes, she

smelled blue and heard

light linger by the boy.

and she gave him wind

and float of tomorrows.

gravity listened and smiled,

dreams of then and now

remembered, and within

embrace stayed.  and the

core of all was poetry.

a burden too great to bear

take it all back – the angel wings

and garden dreams, the light

i was meant to give. take the sunset souls

and voices echoed, flights through mountains

and paintings. take all of the answers i know

but don’t want, and people climbing into my mind.

and take back reading and feeling who they are,

healing and knowing too much.  move all those

who come to me at night, asking for comfort

and answers,  take speaking with my eyes

and hearing all the time, and carrying light

on a butterfly’s wing.  it’s too heavy to carry now.

no one is looking for light anymore.

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Dreams from You

You appear every night in my dreams,

your hand out, leading me to gardens

of color and scent that float like music.

I twirl around, twist flowers in my hair,

and you smile, as if you know I belong

in this place that you dreamed for me.

And when we lie on a bed of wildflowers,

you take my hand in yours, and the stars

pour into the night sky.  It takes my breath

away, but you catch it and set it back

gently on my lips. I feel every flower,

every star, every breath you dreamed

for me. The night is cold, but your arms

are warm, and peace settles all around.

I wake to find it has gone; cold has returned.

All day I smell flowers and wait for you.

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