What is the purest scent?
When a warm breeze divorces
Itself from the spring canopy,
Upon it sails the parfum of a flower
That is the shape of my soul.
Tag: Poetry
Day 8
When a day was just like so
And made still of stubborn crow,
I had thoughts I couldnt lose,
So they say of summer blues.
I then set out to find a friend
Out where our pastures end
And I found him where he stayed
Neath the oak that even’n swayed.
Where our younger days would walk
There wed have time taken talk,
There our thoughts met our dreams,
There they fell, lost by no means.
Day 7
Shall birds sing away the mornings?
Will the trees converse…the days?
Can the carols of oh so few
Crickets sooth the nightly disdains?
Tell me not this band’s old musing,
For what good did it do…they,
Who listened lifetimes over, and
Left bodies to take the place of clay.
______-Day 5
You have walked upon our land
Through your many journeys,
Though the same face
You have never shown her.
In her restlesness she flourishes
Through her faith she falls…
Despite your changing tears that settle
She knows that you are the same.
Eye’s Blossom-Day 4
The eye’s blossom in midday’s shade,
Is open to droplets of rain
That spread into the infant petal…
Heavens milk in beauty’s kettle.
In quiet repose, forgotten shade
Beneath the pomegranate’s blade,
She fans the dancing, longing, wind
As though to hold faith her friend.
Different Season-Day 3
I saw one fig, maybe more,
Left behind at winters door.
It’s true, it seems, though over,
This seasons follows a different order.
Winter-Day 2
A winter wind arrived too soon,
Spilling spirits of a memory forth.
An embittered song of the North
Soaked my will with her tune.
She howled and cried and covered
The gorgeous Autumn colors,
And beat upon my wooden door,
And scratched upon my rusted shutters.
She tucked me in as a mother
Would lay her child to rest…
As night and day tottered together
Drunk near death in winters nest.
Sparrows-Day 1
Sparrows scattered, like seeds tossed
From my grandmothers gentle hands,
As her years and memories lost,
So loosely in this broken land.
At the eve of a quiet day,
When the village left to pray,
The day would fall in tired talk,
And Id amongst these sparrows walk.
I found my heart
I found my heart upon a hill
That was to the sky a sill.
Though it lay upon old will,
I found a stone, that I found still.
Peace,
Abid
Garden of Sage
Wild horses… we bowed to taste morning dew,
The spirit dawn drew in gardens of sage.
We then cantered, it was then we both knew.
The Gods of Sumer lived in silence,
For our hearts reveled in the desert
When sage blossoms hid our penitence.
The wind carried our voices far away,
And far away we felt our voices fall.
We then thought that there we would also stay
Yet as wind swayed our nightly song,
He neared a desert’s aimless dunes.
That he did for a time we both thought long.
In our memory the wind is the same
As the whispers we spread in the garden
Where the sage’s parfum settled our name.
He thrust his self into me, into you,
Before our garden fell beneath his sand.
It was only then…then we were young too.
ahorsealone 
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