snowy owl lands
camoflauged in the white snow
his eyes tell the truth
What a strange thing when lightness turns to dark
Happiness, confidence and ease collapsing inward
Or maybe dissipating out
Where once the ground was stable and the air pure
Now fog surrounds and the terrain- rocks and stones and twists and turns
I take a deep breath
forward motion the only way
I’ve waded through fog before on different terrain
The fog has always lifted
Because that is its nature
And this is mine
facing left, she saw not what was right
right facing evaded her
all that was to be done
with the house to ourselves, my wee girl asked to sleep with me that night
as a treat, i said yes, knowing these moments would disappear at any time
when i came to bed, she lay, doll in her arms
the street light shone a glow upon her face
my head upon my pillow
i lay silently
my eyes upon her closed eyes
studying her face in ways which i could not
through the busyness of the days
i marveled at her beauty
the perfection in her face
the little soul that lay inside
i marveled at how beautiful she is
and I marveled more at how she does in fact
look just like me
a mirrored reflection
slightly askew only due to the years upon my face
and then i marveled a final time
at how i could see such beauty in her face
and yet not the same in mine
when in fact
she is the perfect image
a poetry blog, mostly.
confessions are self-serving
Life somehow is chasing rainbows with a stranger; with that, you'll never be lonely.
With a Challenger-deep Sentiments
Words are beautiful beyond meanings
Strength in Mind, Body, and Spirit.
Conjured by Sarah Doughty
an alien among humans
the literary asylum
Understanding someone’s way with words isn’t as simple as you think.
Talk Books. Drink Coffee.
WITHIN ARE PIECES OF ME
Poetry from an English Hart
Meditations on Art and Life
Lucidly in shadows. Poetry from a hand that writes misty.
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.