Nature’s Bouquet

What lovely gift is this? Nature’s bouquet waiting to be admired. So I, with good will, do pause to still my coursing mind and breathe in a moment. Feeling grounded round the roots of this tree, between its reaching limbs, and upon white pedals of its bloom. -M.E. InkOwl

A Bit of Earth

Give me this bit of earth, That I may grow my hopes and dreams. I do not ask for the world, To be placed selfishly upon my lap. Just a space where I may take root and grow, Beneath heaven and upon rich soil and stone. Let me take a bit of earth, And create … More A Bit of Earth

Write From Within

Write. Drag pen across paper, Decisively mark a first step, Onto an empty road. Breathe in a moment, Feel what is, And do what comes naturally. Write. As the world sighs beyond that open window. Write. As line of flame dancing up a dry twig’s back. Write. As moths flutter above your flickering light of … More Write From Within

To Be A Cloud

Oh to be free as a floating wisp of cloud, Not bothered by the fears of man. Creating all that is and can be, With delicate trails and shifting bodies. Oh to be a cloud, Drifting around an endless azure dome. -M.E. InkOwl

Adventure

Adventure’s waiting beyond the paved path, Upon rolling hills and between mountains misty. Where trolls lie in the deep and dragons sleep, Another kind does call me on. Open this window to a wider plain, Where all is possible with my own two hands. May I forget the norms that so hold me captive, And … More Adventure

Waiting For Spring- Snow

Like memories piling up when given a moment’s reflection, so to does Winter’s snow. -M.E. InkOwl Waiting for Spring is a new series of short poems I hope to feature throughout the month. One can only hope it can get us to Spring a little more quickly, at least for my neck of the woods.

Doldrums of Winter

Tears of ice fall from chilled cheek bones, Clinking their way down half-dead dreams. Momentum has stalled well before this, Entombing hopes within the winter’s dark. Now I stand between starvation and hibernation, Willing these ends to meet again. Take these tears freely shed, And decorate my memory with what I had hoped to be. … More Doldrums of Winter