Broad brushstrokes of blue and gray
flow to greet the perfect day.
The meandering swipes of teal
mirror how you make me feel.
The foaming white swells drift apart
as your kiss lingers in my heart.
My fingers reach for the brush,
but I tell my mind to hush.
No painting needed today
to capture the perfect day.
Nature speaks of the time
when you were only mine.
Icy cold.
My toes turn numb.
My fingers tingle.
The wind howls.
Sleep tempts me.
But I must continue.
A few more steps.
Silence wraps around me.
I raise my face to the sky.
The colors take my breath away.
Portovenere, Italy ~ Luca Libralato
Brushstrokes of blue and gray
outline the puffy clouds.
Broad swipes of teal and aquamarine
meet the neverending horizon.
Swells of purest white
rise from the blue depths.
As my fingers reach for the canvas,
my gaze travels to the brushes,
and I shake my head.
No painting is needed
to capture the perfect day.
I stare around me
at nature’s perfect handiwork.
Please wash away my sorrow and pain.
Let them flow down the streets with the rain,
Dissolved in torrents of despair and sadness,
Joining others on their way past the madness.
The ocean may take them far away,
To places, we cannot even say,
Where no one recognizes their sting
Or knows the infliction they can bring.
Let the rain grow harder with its might,
Becoming hail on this fateful night.
I want to be free of all traces
Of unwanted feelings and faces.
My body grows cold from the rain.
I stand clean and free from the pain.
Shivers create a path down my spine
As I wait in the dark woods of pine.
I hold my head high to the wet spray.
It becomes a mist of blue and gray.
The faucet has been turned off for the night,
Leaving me feeling clean and all so right.
The trees of the forest shiver and shake.
Their long limbs tremble from the next quake.
Thick bodies blaze a glaring white.
Tears freezing from their new plight.
The world has become hard and cold.
My trembling body feels old.
Surrounded on four sides by white.
The bright glare blinded my sight.
White is the color of my nightgown.
I stand and shiver with a frown.
A shadow emerges from the trees.
I hope it is not him, pretty please.
My body moves forward against my will.
I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.
I dig my feet into the packed snow.
But I must go where the wind might blow.
Source: weheartit.com
A bit of fluttering
tickles your fingers.
Antennas search for sound
as wings take flight.
It leaves too soon
on the puff of a breeze.
For one precious moment,
you hold life in your hand.
Source:travel-story
A beautiful fall day.
A pebbled path through the red.
I’ve come outside to play.
Fantasies flow through my head.
The leaves glitter red
Until the day turns dark.
I’m safe in my bed,
A red swirl in the park.
Rain pelts the park.
The wind cackles.
I flee in the dark
On raised hackles.
The path is gone.
Night has come too soon.
The path is gone,
Lost in the full moon.
The tree appears dark and looming.
It could use some proper grooming.
I want to take a walk between its legs,
growing tall from the ground as giant pegs.
By its rules, we must strictly abide.
Imagine the secrets it must hide.
Come walk with me in its dark shade.
Through the fallen leaves, we will wade.
A canopy of leaves above our heads
As we fall asleep on our leafy beds.
I reach for it.
I clench my fist.
I can’t grasp it.
It flows through my fingers.
It can’t be stopped.
I drop my hand,
and bow my head to it.
