Hoylake is the centre of seasonal gifts and joy , with an ice rink as well , Spikey Mouse Photography will be there with a fine array of art gifts
Tag Archives: winter
Benjamin Lawrence (19) – winter love
i have heard people say
they compare their love to a summers day,
but i will now say
i compare you to a late winters morn
bright sparkles full of beauty
a wind that blows taunting like you taunt me
ice frozen into mirrors hard yet easily broken,
just like the front you use to hide your emotions
and the first signs of spring adding energy
that animates your actions
but know while my heart beats
you will be more special than any winters day
and will have a special place in my heart
where you shall stay for eternity
by my son Ben who would love some feedback
17 , 17 syllable American Sentences
Following a dVerse incentive i try the American Sentence a flourish of lines at 4am this morning hope they go down ok
1: his nose punched flat lips split pouted looking for a fight every night
2: a can of schlitz sunset and low slung impala remedy for loss
3: obstinate kisses infect toothache jaw ache headache neurology needed
4: motel marinade coated and baked off counted dollars and returned to the street
5: diamond finger tug gold band reminder these kisses where illicit
6: sat hunched on the toilet hand working the memory that he had betrayed
7: winters pale counterpane gave no shelter for the rabbit from predatory air
8: reasons could be found on the diminishing length of yesterdays words
9: dial the number wait for tone he would not answer he is long gone
10: jazz piano raw as her voice began to crack it was no longer 1954
11: seek the stars and they will not shine anticipating the moment to surprise
12: guitar strings strangle all chances of finding reconciliation
13: two finger pressure shudder she releases a sigh he was erased
14: bellboy at end of marble hall hear titans whisper demise of poor
15: grandpa’s hand once so steady gone leaves remember tobacco smell
16: over ocean swathe she watches vessel under pirates color sail
17 : amity beach july bathers swim children play mayor falters shark prowls
winters fold
sticky beaked crow
raucous over winter berries,
as i ran on frosted ground
grass unlikely to bend
silvered instead of green,
clouds would shake
their snow soon
blanketing and forming
a soft landscape for me
in snow,
i was protected
the chill and damp
reddened eyes and nose,
sticky beaked crow
a shadow on the ground
lengthening under a low sun,
my shadow would be longer
one day,
for now i was content
to lay upon my back
feeling spread of arms and legs
as i be came an angel
dVersePoets
endured no more
titian tints of summer yield
forgetting and embracing
wind and rain,
winter would come with shackles
a home,
citadel of seclusion
sphere light bulbs and ticking clocks
here you can contemplate
the different shades of life
and it’s own complex fate,
grey heart beats,
distilled whiskey poured in
glass streaked by fingers
that once touched face,
without silken words
she would return
and the fevered mind would clear
moments of indiscretion
reshape reform
music would attract,
moth like fluttering in her heart
and the once broken tongue
would speak again
healing a process
begun
descent and decay
iron blanket drawn
over graveyards shoulder,
time grizzles in the wind,
on haunches leaving flowers
new ones that repair the vase
to a certain brightness,
tattooed hand
pores darkened by labor
fingers stained by cigarette,
a tear would not fall
enough had shown at the time,
those fingers took a kiss
pressed it to headstone
no inhibition
despite the rumors that had become
a fiction contorted on nights breath,
driven within hours
in a landscape changing
mesh of community falling
into disrepair,
his longing had seen violence
memory carried weapons
and he could only think of
retribution,
slate wiped of all marks
that defined a normal history,
he still had a key
that room there own,
now cleansed and let to someone
else,
he visited sometimes
walking amongst others possessions
picturing his own
and her blood
scarring the walls
stiffen the twilight
wanderer rolls in half soliloquy
sick heart and eastern sky
death’s fair strokes to guide,
dull pain brings him alone
heart a charnel cave,
crushing cigarette in thumb twists
till nearly ground to nothing,
love once lit and believe
as it was then
snow now hated
broke about the house
fathers silver face tribute to strength
went from kitchen warmth to boathouse,
breast no longer sleeps
coronal shine through window,
gunshot one pause enough to vow
gunshot two now white marble will tell,
should i be penitent kneeling praying
wrestling with tears,
i saw his return crimson and gold
shotgun on shoulder,
mother has gone away he said
my laughing brow could not find a way,
i wished for nothing but hair golden
to weave light to the day
police came lights kaleidoscopic
around ceiling and stars
with my uncle i grew,
now back in this timbered and brick town
to see what remains
house now fallen into decay
this heart of man
was now my peace,
lay flowers in silence
remember my prayer
shadows have now moved underground
and will stay
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas to all my friends and blog followers thank you for all your comments and support i really appreciate all of you and if you read this in passing on a blog voyage you are always welcome love to all , all the best and enjoy
Heart and Snow
white snow, bright snow
raw to eyes and heart,
last night she fell asleep,
by morning he was gone,
note now twisted on table
next to coffee pot,
with little explanation
a cowardly run,
stood on porch
looking to the furthest point,
snow blended landscape
so that it looked the same,
tears held back,
for something in the light
told her
it would get better now
Winter Mocked
from silken intervals of flesh
parting inevitable,
a vagrant blossom falls
upon a dusted road
the pink of a dying star
upon clad earth
brings no consolation
to icicles hung over
shallow grave,
filling the path to April
free winds follow
a creeping slope and
linger there,
can we remember the shade
and tulip bloom
cautious burning of butterfly
wing,
storms come in colored coats
indifferent to yesterday
pleasure not yet spoiled,
long fingers spread
over frozen labyrinths
iced buds squoze upon
the branches,
waxwing bows it’s head
brought by music
of a new chorus
winter will not be forgotten
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