Pacificmelody's Blog

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Joy in the Morning

Porch Smothered in Roses

One minute I am
Balancing my checkbook ~
The next I am standing
On a childhood porch ~
Smothered in pink
Sweetheart roses ~
Smelling like the
Dawn of all creation ~

I can almost feel ~
The delicate touch of the
Early morning air ~
Cool against my skin ~

It feels as if there’s
Birdsong in my veins ~
My knees and elbows tingle ~
In that one moment
It comes flooding back ~
Those magic moments
From my youth ~
When I was most alive ~

Even then ~
I must have
Realized those times
Were special ~ meant
To be stored away ~
So that they could
Be taken out ~
Unwrapped ~
Remembered ~
Savored ~

I am so grateful
For the kindness and
The foresight ~
Of a Universe which
Gives such lovely gifts
On a Monday morning ~


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The Time of Dreaming

allweneedislove-0b3a1a5c0432f6db9d75e3175d6fa6da_h

My sheets are tangled
And my thoughts race
Was I only dreaming
Or was I truly
Remembering

There was a man’s face
Almost your face
But the eyes were wrong
He did not look at me
With love

There was a hunger
But there was fear as well
Though what he had
To fear from me
I’ll never know

Was this a memory
From another lifetime
Or a hint of a lifetime
Yet to come
It is a mystery

But not all mysteries
Require solution
And you are here and warm
And the dreaming
Is soon forgotten


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Winter Thoughts

Thomas-Kinkade-Winter-winter-23436572-1280-1024A chill winter sunset blazes
Just above the far horizon
All of the rest of the sky is
A hazy mix of rose and gold

The little house across the street
Ringed in by the trees and backlit
By the dying of the sun’s light
Looks like a Thomas Kinkade print

And just across the hearth I see
Your eyes through the fading daylight
Looking back at me with all the
Love and desire I’ll ever need

I cannot claim to understand
Why I have been so richly blessed
But I vow I will be worthy
Of the gift that I’ve been given


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On My Own Mortality

 

winter_night-wallpaper-800x600Death holds me
In its sway
As sure as ever
It holds kings
And CEOs and
Other famous folk

Death has no
Favorites
There are no
Golden boys
Or girls
It’s proven fact

And I have
Learned
To live
With that
Most of
The time

But please
Come not
For me today
It is so lovely
Take me on
A cloudy day

Or when the
Rain pours down
Or maybe
It could wait
Till spring
Or even summer

Still I would
Not want
To die in
Autumn
When the fire
Is on the trees

It must be in
The winter then
If it must be
Or maybe
We could strike
A deal

Perhaps I’m
Not quite
So blasé
About it all
As I had
Thought


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The Observer

Rhorschach test.

Rorschach test.

The tears fall down her cheeks
In groups of twos and threes ~
Like Rorschach patterns of
Dark droplets ~ spattered starkly
On her scarlet satin blouse ~

She doesn’t know I’m watching
And her guard is down ~
I’ve never seen this side
Of her before ~ she’s
Never seemed so fragile ~
Or so very real ~

And as I watch I see
Her shoulders straighten ~
And her posture change ~
From somewhere deep inside
New strength pours in ~

I’ve heard the rumors ~
Though I know I’ll never
Know the truth ~
But one thing that I know ~

Some loves will not
Let go ~ some ties
Cannot be broken and
Some hurts will
Truly never heal ~
And I see all the signs ~


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Perspective

On Vacation in Florida

On Vacation in Florida

Thirty pounds and
Fifty years ago …

The eyes that smile
At me from the
Photograph ~
Are full of innocence
And trust ~
The girl I see is
Eager to try her wings ~
In this brand new
Grown-up life ~

Head full of plans
And ideas and
Yearning for love ~
Totally blind to
The years between
Then and now ~

With a tender finger
I trace the cheek
Of this younger me ~
And wonder ~
What the next fifty years
Will bring ~