The Dance

Nov3

The Autumn light cascading,

through dappled tree topped ceilings.

The whispering wind is flowing,

Over grasses and open fields.

She dances to the rhythm,

That hides within her soul.

The music only she can feel,

The story still untold.

She gathers grace and wisdom,

As she gildes around the glen.

The dance is overwhelming,

Her movements are now weak,

But as long as the rhythm guides her,

Her soul will keep the beat.

Watch her as she moves now,

beneath the blazing trees.

The dance is carrying her onwards,

her past has disappeared.

She searches not nor mourns it,

As she moves at every speed.

Her past is just a part of,

The dance that leads her feet.

Watercolor Daydreams

Sep8

The Writer

Aug13

The sun filtered through the leaves of the ancient sycamore she lay beneath. Her eyes were closed but she could feel the warmth of the roaming rays as they danced across her body. The grass she laid upon was cool and slightly wet with dew. A wonderfully refreshing sensatation that juxtaposed the muggy, almost suffocating, heat of mid August in Maryland.

Her mind was wandering as she filtered through the noises of summer in the field. She thought of the growing pile of work she left unfinished at the kitchen table followed by an image of the dirty sink, still filled with last nights dishes. She thought of her next writing project, imagining how Gustav would look in his uniform with his unruly hair that never sat flat. She imagined the post-apocalyptic factory that turned pre-war tires and cars into usable metal and rubber. She was still trying to figure out the political structure of this post war society when a shadow covered her face.

“Where am I” said a low gravelly voice she didn’t recognize.

Her eyes opened slowly, fully knowing that no one could just stumble across her grandpa’s hunting cabin. There were no highways or nearby towns. It took twenty minutes of mountain driving along a small dirt road just to get to the small country road that led to the nearest gas station and farm stand.

“How did you get here?” She asked aggressively, in a lame attempt to hide her fear. She threw him her most standoffish look but he seemed familiar and she couldn’t figure out why she knew him.

The stranger fell into the grass next to her, his knees crumpled into a loose x in front of him. He ran his thick fingers through his sandy brown hair and let the thin strands fall every which way before looking up at her with the lightest brown eyes she had ever seen.

“I have no idea. I was just finishing breakfast and I had pulled out my uniform and as I laid it on my bed I felt like someone was watching me and when I turned around I was here and you were on the ground. Um, who are you?”

She let out a small gasp and covered her mouth with her hands. “Gustav?”

Are you ready?

Jun9

Home is Where

May6

Home is where my heart aches

every time we say goodbye

Where curtains never seem to fit

And couches are always just a bit too wide.

Friendships new and old cycling through.

Home is where I smell the newness of

fields of grass so green and

where dandelions sway in a summers eve,

Where Church barbecues blaze

and lightening bugs fly.

Home is looking up at a star filled Desert Sky,

Refreshing summer heat spreading over me,

Hoodies in the morning, flip flops during lunch.

Straddling the border, wishing on a star.

Home is where the sounds of tiny voices fly,

Pitter patter through the day

Imaginations running by.

Little hands and faces, never fully clean

Always looking for me.

Home is where the heart is, or so they say.

But then my heart would be shattered

With every time I had to say goodbye.

Home is every memory, hidden deep inside.

Home is where the homeless smile.

Fairy Darkness

Jan1

She sat beneath the tree. Her wings lost in the latest battle and her dress covered with what was left of her pride. The night has since enclosed around her but the power of the harvest moon allowed her weak melody to bring forth a few night blooms. Her body was weak and broken as she relied on the strength of the swing to keep her in place. Hidden in the light of the moon, unseen by her love as his signal lit up the sky. His light gives hope to those at sea and to her aching soul. If her wings were the price of his safety she would gladly give them again and again. The tempest is blowing past this tranquil place and he will continue to live on, because of the unknown sacrifice of an unrequited love. Unable to move on and no longer able to return to the land of the faeries she is trapped in the curse of fairy darkness until she finds a way to make her way to that bright light.