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Posts Tagged ‘nature’


Death girdled

The innards of my soul

Tears pierced, fury bridled

Youth’s fool, hearts’ toll

 

The innards of my soul

Hope floundered, Grace grasped

Youth’s fool, hearts’ toll

Above your door, there is a task

 

Hope floundered, Grace grasped

Faded blue, trimmed yellow

Above your door, there is a task

Blood boiling as Othello

 

Faded blue, trimmed yellow

The artists’ hand must speak the heart

Blood boiling as Othello

Nature’s beauty will never part

 

The artists’ hand must speak the heart

Brilliant orange with streams of yellow, as chiffon

Nature’s beauty will never part

Beneath the horizon, a song of frisson

 

Brilliant orange with streams of yellow, as chiffon

Orbed fashions of beet juice red

Beneath the horizon, a song of frisson

A root grounded, wings spread

 

Orbed fashions of beet juice red

Merlot grapes upon the fringes

A root grounded, wings spread

A velvet cloak from within

 

Merlot grapes upon the fringes

Circular patterns are no more

A velvet cloak from within

Four letters over the door

 

Circular patterns are no more

One less, love lost

Four letters over the door

Wrongs placed upon the cross

 

One less, love lost

Isis, miracle of life

Wrongs placed upon the cross

To live in peace, not in strife

 

Isis, miracle of life

City scenes within her name

To live in peace, not in strife

Only one remains unstained

 

City scenes within her name

London, Paris, Venice, all tainted

Only one remains unstained

New Jerusalem holy, sainted

 

London, Paris, Venice, all tainted

Tears pierced, fury bridled

New Jerusalem holy, sainted

Death girdled

Kimberley Formosa © 2012

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Without you.

loneliness

within

has claimed me

completely

which helps

this pen

to pour its ink

upon these

pages

words from a wounded heart

which has realized

the truth

of the years

which do not lie

the dreams of a soul

which has learned

to appreciate

Life size statue of a woman at Oak Grove Cemetery in La Crosse, Wisconsin

the bitterness

of the tears

which stain

my cheeks

Tis true

we lie our heads

down to sleep

under the same moon

Tis true

the sun rises

each morning

kissing the dew away

every day

without you

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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There he was

surprising me

with a wink

and a great

bright smile

of joviality

just a few inches

above the

eastern horizon

beckoning the

blackened

star struck

sky

to graciously

bear lovely

hues of blue

so my prayers

may bring

me back

to this desert

placed along

side the Pacific

as it thunders

upon its’ edges

sending breezes

to caress me

as I close my eyes

to dream

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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Early

this morning

the song of a bird

of which was unfamiliar

to me

greeted me as I was

awakening

Art Print by Gayle Montayo

drawing me close

to the window

I could not

see the One

who was singing

so beautifully

for the leaves of green

upon the trees

are so lush

and bounteous

this time of year

He is near me

I cannot see Him

But I can hear Him

call me to Him

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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“I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child. What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense..” Beatrix Potter’s Journal, 17 November 1896 National Trust collection

If I were supping

at a small oak table

set before a blazing fire

with hot soup steaming

before my face

and warm crusty bread

with sweet butter

melting there on

and Earl Grey

keeping my hands warm

If at this table

by my side

engaging in the most

delightful conversation

were Beatrix herself

Then I would not complain

of another

gray

hazy

foggy

rainy

chilly

May day

“…and as I was quietly tramping about in the old wood, there I spotted him!” she said.

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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Hope

Cares not

If his load to bear

Is heavier than yours

He will continue on

Hope

does not mind

if you have no desire

to hold his hand

He will be there

For you

Always at your side

Just in case

 And if you must

Discard him

Today

You will find

His tears

Having fallen

So delicately

Upon all which has been

Blanketed by darkness

 For he knows what belongs

To each new day

And whatsoever direction

You choose

For your life

He will be there

For you

Lies hope in the

Everlasting truth

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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two spools

laden with fibers

of the same weight

color

name

may actually

be tainted with deception

lying the threads

side by side

on a contrasting background

in the light of a golden

autumns’ afternoon

those threads can fool and shame

even the most discriminating eye

even the eye that belongs to the hands

that wishes to marry these two threads

to conceive something

so beautiful

it might be cherished

for generations to come

upon thorough inspection

the threads are confidently joined

to make a beautiful garment

holy sacrament

tick

tock

tick

tock

feverishly producing

woven threads

in a moment

truth speaks what

cannot be denied

deception has clearly

deceived

bold and brazen

there is not one color

named ecru

there is no time

for discussion

planning

pulling apart

reworking

soon these hands were plunging

this most lovely handiwork

into a pot of warm black tea

woven in time

with love

steeped to hide

two colors named ecru

to cover the disparity

to rid the shame

of what should have been and

isn’t and

will never be

Kimberley Formosa © 2011

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