NEW POETRY ~ 27 AUGUST 2019

ŋɛῳ ℘ơɛɱ

Ⱥʍօղց Ӏąѵҽղժҽɾ

The moon shines pale

Hanging high above

As she steps out in the fields

Fragrant lavender flows into her nose.

Sheer blue dress

Hangs upon her silken skin.

She floats to the middle

Playing her fingers

Along the delicate flowers.

She breathes in deep

As she closes her eyes.

Smiling as she loses herself in the smell.

She begins to twirl

Dancing in the flowers

Under sweet moonlight.

The stars show themselves

Revealing to her their brilliance.

She opens her arms wide

As sheer blue scarves float around

Tilting her head to the heavens

The stars fall gracefully around her.

Her dress now shimmering

In the starlight

Dancing around her.

The lavender shimmers in starlight.

She twirls playfully in the flowers

The sweet lavender rising up

As the stars sparkle bright.

She feels a hand upon her waist

She spins slowly around

To welcome her lovers arms.

They stand and kiss

Among starlight, moonlight, and lavender.

~~♡♡☆☆

His moonlit dream

She danced around

As though she was

Merely a dream.

Her sheer skirts

Floating around her body;

Magical almost.

Was she truly there,

before his very eyes?

Moonlight filters about

as soft petals fall upon her feet;

An angel of beauty

in sheer moonlit elegance.

She pauses beside his piano,

glancing behind her shoulder

to gaze upon him.

She closes her eyes

as she twirls again.

The sheer scarves swirling

As she moves freely;

this time into his arms.

He captures her,

this graceful beauty

that now belongs to him.

She looks into his eyes,

Her love shining bright.

Joining arms and hands,

They now twirl together

In the magical grace

as they join to become one.

He has now become

part in this moonlit dream;

Sharing in her beauty and grace.

They dance around the room,

Holding close against the other.

Her sheer skirts swirling

Around them both.

He slides his finger

slowly along piano keys

As they float past,

still holding fast.

He feels her hand

along his hair

as he slides them upon the bench;

sharing the moonlit dance

turned into song.

~~~~

ɦɨֆ ʄɨռɛ աɨռɛɦɛ ȶɦօʊɢɦȶ ȶօ ɢʊʟք ɦɛʀ

ǟֆ ȶɦօʊɢɦ ֆɦɛ աǟֆ աǟȶɛʀ,

ȶօ ֆǟȶɨֆʄʏ ɦɨֆ ȶɦɨʀֆȶ.

օռʟʏ ɨռֆȶɛǟɖ, ɦɛ ʄօʊռɖ ȶɦǟȶ ֆɦɛ աǟֆ ɨռ ʄǟƈȶ,

ȶɦɛ ʄɨռɛֆȶ օʄ աɨռɛֆ ɦɛ ɦǟֆ ɛʋɛʀ ȶǟֆȶɛɖ.

ɦօա ֆɦɛ ɨռȶօӼɨƈǟȶɛɖ ɦɨֆ ʍɨռɖ.

ȶɦɛ ȶǟֆȶɛ օʄ ɦɛʀ ɨռֆȶǟռȶʟʏ ɮʀօʊɢɦȶ ɦɨʍ ɮǟƈӄ

ȶօ ȶɦɛ ʍօʍɛռȶ օʄ ʟօʋɛ աɦɛռ ȶɦɛɨʀ աօʀʟɖ ɮɛɢǟռ.

ֆɦɛ ֆɦօաɛɖ ɦɨʍ ɦօա ȶօ ʟօʋɛ ǟɢǟɨռ

աɦɛռ ɦɛ ȶɦօʊɢɦȶ ǟʟʟ աǟֆ ʟօֆȶ.

ȶɦɛʏ ɮɛƈǟʍɛ ʍɛֆʍɛʀɨʐɛɖ ɮʏ ȶɦɛ ֆǟʍɛ ʍօօռ.

ʊռɖɛʀ ֆօʄȶ ƈǟռɖʟɛ ʟɨɢɦȶ ǟռɖ քɨǟռօ ֆօռɢ.

ɦօա ƈօʊʟɖ ȶɦɛʏ ɮɛ ǟռʏ ƈʟօֆɛʀ ȶɦǟռ ȶɦɛʏ ǟʀɛ ռօա?

ֆɦɛ ֆǟʋօʀֆ ǟʟʟ ȶɦǟȶ ɦɛ ɖօɛֆ ʊռɖɛʀ ȶɦɛɨʀ ʍօօռ.

ɦɛ աʀɨȶɛֆ ǟʟօռɢ ɦɛʀ ɛɖɢɛֆ,

ƈօռȶɨռʊɨռɢ ɨռ ɦɨֆ ʍǟռʊֆƈʀɨքȶ;

ֆօ ƈʟօֆɛ ɦɛ ƈօʍɛֆ ȶօ ɦɛʀ ȶʀʊȶɦ.

ȶɦɛռ ƈʟօֆɛʀ ֆȶɨʟʟ, ǟֆ ɦɛ ƈʀɛǟȶɛֆ ɦɨֆ ʄǟɛʀʏ’ֆ ֆօռɢ;

ʊռȶɨʟ ֆɦɛ աǟֆ ɛʋɛʀʏȶɦɨռɢ ɦɛ ɛʋɛʀ ռɛɛɖɛɖ.

ʍօʀɛ ɛʋɛռ ɮɛʏօռɖ ʝʊֆȶ ȶɦǟȶ.

ֆɦɛ աǟֆ ʍօʀɛ ȶɦǟռ ʝʊֆȶ աǟȶɛʀ

ֆɦɛ աɛռȶ ɮɛʏօռɖ ɦɨֆ ȶɦɨʀֆȶ,

ʄօʀ ֆɦɛ աǟֆ ɦɨֆ ʄɨռɛֆȶ աɨռɛ ɦɛ ɛʋɛʀ ɖɨֆƈօʋɛʀɛɖ.

ɦɨֆ ʊռʄɨռɨֆɦɛɖ ʍǟռʊֆƈʀɨքȶ.

ɦɛ ɦǟֆ ռɛʋɛʀ ȶǟֆȶɛɖ ǟռʏȶɦɨռɢ ʄɨռɛʀ ȶɦǟռ ȶɦɨֆ

օռɛ ɮɛǟʊȶɨʄʊʟ ƈʀɛǟȶʊʀɛ,

ȶɦǟȶ ɦǟֆ ɮɛƈօʍɛ ɦɨֆ ȶօ ȶʀɛǟֆʊʀɛ ǟʟաǟʏֆ.

ȶɦɛ ʍօօռ ɮɛʟօռɢɛɖ ȶօ ȶɦɛʍ

ǟռɖ ȶɦɛʍ ǟʟօռɛ ȶօ ֆɦǟʀɛ ɨռ ǟʟաǟʏֆ

ȶօ ɨռɖʊʟɢɛ ɨռ ɦɨֆ ʄɨռɛֆȶ օʄ աɨռɛֆ.

8.23.2019

𝓜𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓷𝔂

 𝐼 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓈;

𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽.

𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁,

𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓈𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔.

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹

𝐼 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇.

𝐻𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓋𝒶𝓈,

𝒜𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓅𝓈.

𝒜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒,

𝑀𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝑒𝓇𝓎’𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔.

𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓉;

𝐵𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒.

𝐻𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓁𝑜𝒹𝒾𝑒𝓈;

𝒜𝓈 𝐼 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓈,

𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁.

𝒜𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓈

𝒜𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎

𝐵𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑜𝓃𝓎.

𝟪.𝟤𝟩.𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟫

ռɛʋɛʀ ʟɛǟʋɛ ʏօʊ

ɨ'ʟʟ ʟɛǟʋɛ ʏօʊ

աɦɛռ ɮʀɛǟȶɦ ʟɛǟʋɛֆ ʍɛ

ȶɦɛ ֆʊռ ɢօɛֆ ɖǟʀӄ

ǟռɖ ȶɦɛ ʊռɨʋɛʀֆɛ ɛռɖֆ.

ǟռɖ ɛʋɛռ ȶɦɛռ

ɨ ֆɦǟʟʟ ֆȶɨʟʟ ɮɛ ɮʏ ʏօʊʀ ֆɨɖɛ,

ɦօʟɖɨռɢ ʄǟֆȶ

ȶօ ǟ ʟօʋɛ ֆօ ֆȶʀօռɢ.

ɨ'ʟʟ ʟɛǟʋɛ ʏօʊ

աɦɛռ ʍʏ ɛʏɛֆ ƈʟօֆɛ ʄօʀɛʋɛʀ

ȶɦɛ ֆȶǟʀֆ ʄǟɨʟ ȶօ ֆɦɨռɛ

ǟռɖ ȶɦɛ աօʀʟɖ ֆȶօքֆ ȶʊʀռɨռɢ.

ɨ'ʟʟ ʟɛǟʋɛ ʏօʊ

աɦɛռ աօʀɖֆ ʄǟɨʟ ʍʏ ʟɨքֆ

ʍɛʟօɖɨɛֆ ƈɛǟֆɛ ȶօ ɮɛ

ǟռɖ ʍօʀքɦɛʊֆ ɦǟֆ աօռ ʄɨռǟʟʟʏ.

ʊռȶɨʟ ֆʊƈɦ ȶɨʍɛ

ɨ'ʟʟ ɦօʟɖ ʏօʊ ƈʟօֆɛ ȶօ ʍʏ ɦɛǟʀȶ

ɢʊǟʀɖ ʏօʊʀ ɖʀɛǟʍֆ

ǟռɖ ӄɛɛք ʏօʊ ֆǟʄɛ

ռօա ǟռɖ ǟʟաǟʏֆ

8.27.2019

The killed lavender 

The poor little lavender plant

Struggling hard to survive to begin with.

In a swift motion,

Run over by an uncaring monster.

The tiny little thing never stood a chance against the machine.

Or the human that controlled such a beast.

The poor little faye heartbroken now.

Hysterical over a plant

Yet she doesn’t know why this is so 

Could it be that in a way,

She was the tiny little lavender herself?

Carelessly destroyed by an insensitive monster?

Tossed aside as though she was nothing at all?

Such a horrid beast of a creature

To carelessly throw aside others feelings and needs.

She doesnt matter after all this time.