Photo by Negative Space on
I didn’t hit a single word today
My mark was off by a long way
I tried to reach you in my own way
But I’m three out of three today
Three out of three
poetry
I dreamed I was flying…
Photo by Pixabay
I dreamed I was flying, the sole purveyor of the spectacular beauty below
with my Eagle eyes I could see exactly where to go
I flew over the spines of breathtaking mountains and white capped oceans vast
Flying up to the High Heavens all the galaxies in my path
while the gold dust of the stars showered me like rain
The Sun Tilted
The Sun has tilted and pulled all the light away
Her world is a hue of lavender blue
The dreams shifted inside her that day
and she stayed there all afternoon…
A weather-driven working man
Photo by Vlad Cheu021ban on Pexels.com
A weather-driven working man
With sun-dried skin and calloused hands
His voice always gentle, his words always kind
He loved me like the pearl of great price
He said a granddaughter is the glory of this life
heal your wild wing…
A sunbeam shining on my day
Summer was a Play time
Oh heal your wild wing and fly…
Trust is the healing balm
healing time has come
deep indigo Summer dreams come alive…
A moonbeam to dance upon
Summer is a silver silhouette
Oh head your wild wing and fly…
It’s gonna rain Glory
Photo by Garon Piceli
It's gonna rain Glory, winds of this world are gonna blow away the chaff! He's a comin' to Reign, yes Jesus is gonna Reign! He is the Sun that warms the earth! He has put an end to sin and death! Oh yea, it's gonna rain Glory, Jesus is gonna' Reign !
That place where we bleed
It is an early morning rain
blue crystals falling from the sky
Oh all the words won’t come my way
the search for them makes me high
I saw you sleeping in the candle light
coming round to that place where we bleed
Oh all your thoughts won’t come my way
each idea planted like a row of seeds
It is an early morning rain
a symphony falling from the sky
Oh all the dance steps are ours
or at least to give a try.
Paris in the 30’s
I want to be in Paris in the thirties
in a coffee house with painters and poets
Like Laurel Canyon sixties songs
the music echoes all day and night
The morning rain showers, the afternoon sun
Warm canvases of yellows and melons horizons
The evening light of the Eiffel Tower glitters
The night is showered with city sights
I want to be in Paris in the thirties
And write the poetry that rattles in my head
Like a song on an old phonograph
I am dancing in the shadows until morning takes flight
There is a heavy dark night in the city…
Photo by Rodolfo Clix
Island of Genius
It is a misfit’s address
An island of genius
A mystery of progress
The glitter of astrocytes between us
The mundane to the brilliant
From the axon to infinity
Never to be explained away
The music of the genius plays
Jill Autrey Dorman 