Your smile
Simply rends my heart.
It calls from me all that is good.
When it comes, your smile,
Unexpected flash,
You manifest more clearly,
Eyes more intent,
For a moment focused –
It seems – on me.
Your airy being drawn to this world,
Shining a light that lingers
Long after you have gone
To play with the wind,
Your slim, gentle form
Blithely beneath the trees,
Weaving in and weaving out,
Up into the branches,
The light in the sky, always,
Your smile.
© jsmorgane (Nov 2011)
Trees don’t sing,
They hum.
How I know?
I was told.
By whom, you wonder?
By someone who listened.
To whom, you want to know?
To the trees, of course.
So I listened too,
And trees don’t sing:
They hum.
What they hum –
I have yet to understand.
© jsmorgane (Nov 2011)
Within the farthest reach of Summer,
Stone still warm from midday slumber,
The Land inhales the last
Of the great Sun’s past heat
And holds Her breath before
She gives in and admits defeat.
With the turning of a leaf autumn is here,
Heavy with fruit and offering to freely give
The harvest of the year.
And all withdraw into the mellow mists,
Into their homes, to the beginning,
Below the earth, to sleep, to rest.
I, too, sink slowly down, thoughts turned inwards,
Tending to my dreams, tending the small flame
Against a deeper darkness, greater silence.
And I wait – for in this stillness I can feel
Winter is coming.
© jsmorgane (Nov 2011)
