~*~*~
Thoughts.
In and out
Shoes.
Some with laces
One goes on right foot
Other slips on left
Gloves.
Some with snaps
One covers right hand
Other protects left
Earrings.
Some with anchors
One pokes right lobe
Other pierces left
Rings.
Some with stones
These band fingers
Those circle toes
Tattoos.
Everywhere
02/28/2010
judithpiper
****
My first thought was shoes. And I went from there.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Paradox
Upon my porch I sit
Wrapped in the morning melody
Birds, breezes, cicadas
Singing in perfect harmony
Weeping willow in full array
Swaying with the tune
Sunbeams dance upon her
Tiny lights, a multitude
Yet the oak leaves are not shimmering
Nor the elms, nor the figs
Only the weeping willow
Displays one thousand glitterings
Tears perhaps, is she crying?
Yet her display is not of gloom
Rather tiny sparkles glistening
Tears of God renewed
Splendor of hope
Upon the weeping willow
judithpiper
july 4, 2007
***
Not much need for explanation. The prose simply describes that July morning that I wrote the poem as I sat upon my back porch. The weeping willow was the only tree that glittered in the sunlight, the leaves still damp from a gentle rain or dew. A breeze lightly danced the leaves, and thus the shimmerings.
Tears are our friends.
In the wee hours of today, February 25, 2010, this poem comes to mind as I listen to a Leonard Cohen song, "Hallelujah," sung by K.D. Lang. {Thank you Chris.}
Perhaps the song brought this poem to mind because love (and life) can be such a paradox.
Wrapped in the morning melody
Birds, breezes, cicadas
Singing in perfect harmony
Weeping willow in full array
Swaying with the tune
Sunbeams dance upon her
Tiny lights, a multitude
Yet the oak leaves are not shimmering
Nor the elms, nor the figs
Only the weeping willow
Displays one thousand glitterings
Tears perhaps, is she crying?
Yet her display is not of gloom
Rather tiny sparkles glistening
Tears of God renewed
Splendor of hope
Upon the weeping willow
judithpiper
july 4, 2007
***
Not much need for explanation. The prose simply describes that July morning that I wrote the poem as I sat upon my back porch. The weeping willow was the only tree that glittered in the sunlight, the leaves still damp from a gentle rain or dew. A breeze lightly danced the leaves, and thus the shimmerings.
Tears are our friends.
In the wee hours of today, February 25, 2010, this poem comes to mind as I listen to a Leonard Cohen song, "Hallelujah," sung by K.D. Lang. {Thank you Chris.}
Perhaps the song brought this poem to mind because love (and life) can be such a paradox.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Am
Sitting upon cushioned chair
Tapping on the keyboard
Pausing to think, take a breath
Slurping on a smoothie
Leaning back on two wooden legs
Smiling, words drifting through
Rubbing hands so as to warm
Sighing, stretching, yawning
Almost time for bed
But first a toasted
English muffin with
Blueberry spread
Dollop!
02/13/10
***
Just sittin' here noticing myself. What my body is doing. It makes me smile. I like simple - like muffins with blueberry spread after slurping my blueberry smoothie.
Tapping on the keyboard
Pausing to think, take a breath
Slurping on a smoothie
Leaning back on two wooden legs
Smiling, words drifting through
Rubbing hands so as to warm
Sighing, stretching, yawning
Almost time for bed
But first a toasted
English muffin with
Blueberry spread
Dollop!
02/13/10
***
Just sittin' here noticing myself. What my body is doing. It makes me smile. I like simple - like muffins with blueberry spread after slurping my blueberry smoothie.
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