It’s peaceful out
And gentle wind
Whispers love into my soul
It’s quiet here
And rest I’ve found
Your sunshine careful in its glow
And standing here
I look around
I see my raindrops falling down
As mist rises up
To meet the rays
And lend its nurturing spirit there
So flowers bloom
And buds break forth
In graceful beauty all around
While clouds appear
And lend their shade
From overwhelming bursts of joy
And in this space
Of growth and peace
Let me show you my garden, so you may understand why I love it as much as I do.
Here, on this ornate bench beneath the cascade of Rose vines, my heart first opened up to love. The hand that turned back the petals and revealed the heart was the hand that put this ring on my finger.
Here, under the boughs of these cherry blossoms, I learnt that this Love must die a young death.
'Twas walking between the rows of gardenias here that my broken heart was healed.
My sisters in the garden;
her fine hair spreading wider, she
opens up her face to me
Shy little thing.
My brothers in the fields,
their bodies stretching higher,
reaching reaching touch the sun
So quick to claim the hour.
I wait like an almond blossom
wavering in the breeze
I watch like the almond blossom
as people pass beneath
I drift like the almond blossom
among the grey-barked trees
I may only watch and listen
but I may never speak
I want to correct, I want to be
but instead where the wind blows
the branch will lean
I wish to sing but no one knows
catch me, the almond blossom, falling
A thousand rains may come and go
a thousand storms may shake me
a thousand whispers will I know
Part Three: The Island
Bridget ran until her legs collapsed under her. The dolphin paused about twenty feet from the shore and waited until she caught her breath. She was lying on the sand for about ten minutes. She knew that she needed to start again when the dolphin started making soft dolphin squeals, but she was so tired. “Just a little longer…” she murmured.
Today I was looking through my diary, getting all sentimental and nostalgic. I found some old poems that I wrote and thought, "Why not put 'em up on AP....just for kicks". And here they are.
This one I wrote when I was six or seven; my first poem ever!
Spring, spring!
It's almost here!
Beautiful flowers are coming near
A rose here, a tulip there
Green grass everywhere!
Spring's coming!
This one, oh....I'd say I was about 9 when I did this one.
Their sweet yellow faces
as bright as the sun
their stems, thin and graceful
and still everyone
Think they are weeds,
try to chase them off
But if you walk through the woods
You'll find their secret spot
A little green meadow
That's filled with their beauty,
their happiness and joy,
and such wonder that few see
The blossoms, alive
blink and sway in the breeze
Their gladness fills me
and makes me feel free