Rain on a tin roof White noise soothing Muddled mind To dream Each drop echoes A different sound Like a typewriter of Make believe Writing novellas Words unspoken Moves a token Gesture of love Sounds identify Life unbounded Connect to world Eden above Cherishing dark blue Burning midnight oil Happiness toil Space beside With you
Imagine
If one could hold
Her whole world
In her hand
Though small
Only so many
Treasures
Keep reaching out
Finding gold
Look into my face, can you see?
The sketches of my past
smiles and frowns etched with age
marks of honor, sun-baked.
Look into my eyes, can you see?
A reflection of yourself?
Glinting shadows sparkle and fade
To soften the hard edge life of late
Read between the lines of living
on the cusp of heaven, grow wings.
Ease, peace, please, appease.
Muster courage, move to light
Hand holding tight.
Look into my face, can you see
You?
Photo credit: Swiss Alps by Ilze Haynes (C) 2019
The feathered bird flips lightly on the low bough and peers
Suspiciously at fronds of smoke waving past his ears
Roundly Red and pale Peach bellies, proudly hide and seek
Circling hoard of humans who visit once a week
Curiously they walk below, felling trunks, digging peat
Bouncing round the fire waving sticks with things to eat
Harmlessly they shape our wood into a tiny home
A private nest, motionless, watching while Red roams.
Remember me, when words fail,
when my face softens, hair and skin fade
Remember me, when memories are gone,
hold them in your own mind and sing my life to me, joyfully.
Remember me, all trials and sufferings, victories and festivals,
labours and laughter, my lessons hard-won – are yours now,
to remember me.
Lying motionless for weeks
Eyes tracing fleur de lis
The peeling paper of grief
Lit by dappled window
We hauled ourselves o’er river
Up valley, down street
A fortress of relief
Where the sun streams in
Letterbox dropped all over
Exhaustive help depletes
Children playing down the creek
Treated from top to feet
The wardrobe grew expansive
The widening face to greet
In the mirror of my memory
My morning stranger meet
A thickening of walls and doors
A latch that won’t fool many
The welcome mat rolled up and out
For neighbours warm and friendly
The distance and the silence grew
A universe between them
Majestic prose still flows in space
Though gracious few receive it
The stranger in the mirror
Grows accustomed to the stare
Our eyes meet and smile
A sweet surrendered air
Hiding in plain sight
My former figure forgets
Politely nod and carry along
The new friend in our midst
New and aged silver and brave
Though some might say contrary
The glimmer in her eye reveals
The joy in giving Glory
Featured Image: Photo by Hello I’m Nik on Unsplash
We may lay and rise to meet
Expel desire to compete
Friends and strangers’ hearth for feet
Tread the path discreet
Fruit borne plentiful and sweet
Eyes of silence wide asleep
Pierce the mocking vine deceit
Thistle blister seat
Longing not for pride or place
Passion forbade saving face
Hope in holy open space
Gentle saving grace
Poem and Featured Image of Ellendale, Tasmania by Lisa J. Haynes (C) 2018
Image of ruins near Ross, Tasmania – Mercury Newspaper.
Even deep disappointments cannot be drowned;
They will rise and inflate and infect and abound.
Happy are those who suffer no ill;
For all the rest, choose – sweet or bitter pill?
Photo credit: Chip Phillips image from an article: ‘The Explosive potential of methane frozen beneath Abraham Lake’ (Canada)
Fear of what might happen if you leave
Is no good reason to remain
Brokenhearted,
May you have the freedom to proclaim
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favour and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion
— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendour. – Isaiah 61:1-3
Count the stars of heaven 