Dear Myrea, thank-you for your lightness and love.
I so enjoy your “May Flower” painting. You have been doing such lovely work and it has not gone unnoticed.
One day we will have our “spot of tea”. I just like that expression…
I have been a lover of tea parties since I was a little girl.
I wrote a nonsensical poem for you. It is childlike.
Here it is. It is entitled and inspired by your “May Flower”.
If I may and if I might,
a flower in May
brings delight,
a fallen shadow
lifted in spring
ripens to summer
for a fairy’s fling.
So we shall not enter,
So we shall not go,
Where hope’s been abandoned,
The fragility of the soul,
Cast not off to vipers,
But cradled amid cries
Of desperation’s dark
renderings, tendered
by light.
May that still, small voice,
One earth, one love,
One for all and all for love,
Permeate the earth
And shower the skies,
Bringing peace within
Where the Christ child lies.
The fae of the garden,
Hides in the wind,
In the leaf that is blowing,
In the laughter of a friend,
In the star that is swirling,
In the plump, bumbling bee,
Hurling and furling,
Around pink peonies.
Little fairies come at night
While the moon’s light shines bright
They flitter down around my bed
and guard me while I rest my head
They dance in the shimmering light
Waving their wands from left to right
I cannot look for in me they trust
If I do they might turn to fairy dust
I know they’re real, I know it’s true
Because Mum said so, and Dad said too!
Evening of his cirque,The puppeteer
His intimate hideaway , dreams
Sensual realm, only he shared with faey magic
Extraordinary love affair
Blended in Paris love
Lights flattering to ones own soul, leaves softly cry
He danced with her shadows face
Chaos, confusion, vesper
Unique kiss of the Paradise
Waterfalls dazzling, her role
Darkness revealing, his playpen of absurdity and laughter
Mime dancing, soft wings whisper
Delicate colorful gems, butterflies caressed each wing
Spirits shawl draped, almost transparent to the eyes view
Each one proclaiming true love, filling the passages of timeless indigo
Mere tokens of lost affections, moonstruck laced beginnings
Dark chrism blood wine, tasted soft quenching his appear
Celtic key she keeps hidden from all view
Carried with ominous possibilities
Scented pillow sacred talk, memories secret affair
Whispering each lover, carried there rose candle
There last goodbye dollops thin; layers of angels clouds
Teardrops melting as each Jasmine kiss
Another dusting of midnight snow
Images, almost sculptural as heirloom cloak of love
Stylish lady, Chintz pattern lights around her
Illuminated lanterns showing their life, hearts trinkets
The hare that follows
the rabbit that hides
Mad as a hatter
love solidifies
The dankness of earth
that scents the night skies
Growing deep within
when hollow dirt dies.
A fairy in the valley
A blossom in the air
Floats on the mist of morning
As a note floats on a song
Chasing whispers in the woodlands
Quiet moments near still pools
Wild whirlpools folding inward
Upon eddying dreams of gold
So the firefly speaks of magic
Voices soften, distilled to stone,
Darkness quivers, arrows soften
Dripping lotus blossom blooms
Upon emerald leaf, so tender,
While eternal water looms
To capture beading tempest
In her gently lapping womb,
Still fairies silence thunder
Lowly stillness as a dove
Soars upon the one forgotten
The fairy flies alone.
Stumble it!
Del.icio.us
