Imprisoned Behind an Open Door. . .

To live in the foothills of life
watching others climb the mountain,
is to have a lonely address.
Longing for the summit
but afraid to climb,
is a dream dying at birth.

The phobic wilt
in the glow of the strong,
hiding in the shadow of the brave,
guilty as charged;

yet who is to know
why the path through a door
is a step too far,
when dreams are full of courage
but panic locks the will.

Forgotton by the past,
ridiculed by ignorance,
the verdict is innocent and
the sentence is life.

Virtual life is a Godsend. . .

and all there is.

Through an Open Window

Through an open window
the wind breathes to swell
a curtained veil,
petals shiver in a crystal vase,
prismatic colours in a ray of sun
to shame a rainbow.

Heirloom oak burnished
gold in midas light,
reflects a century past,
knows life's gentle rhythm
rocked by a dreaming soul
in quiet repose.

Contentment shares
its given name this day
in silent guise,
while time suspends
a moment lost
in perfect peace.

Endless

Stretch the day as languid cat
and elongated seconds yawn,
lethargic minutes dragging slow
till they achieve an hour to mourn.

Tick and tock and tick and tock
and breathing in and breathing out
and heart that beats in perfect time
another pulse defys life's doubt.

Sun has risen, sun has set and
earth has turned and moon has shone
and tides have ebbed and tides have flowed
and after all. . .you are still gone.

Aurora Borealis

Time to dance,
to swirl and toss
my rainbow skirts
against the black.

To mark the polar
skys with joy
to veil the stars
and curtain mountains.

Sweep the light
with palette brush
in abstract arc
and bands of gold

as Inuit stand
witness to reflections
born of ancient
lore.

Intimidate man's
highway lights,
to shame his fires
and firework sham,

the Northern chill
is mine to paint,
the light of Heaven's black
I am.