You are a dose of agelessness
A place where time stands still
My second star to the right
A slice of Neverland
And when doubt tore my wings
Leaving me stranded on the edge of imagination
You reached back and said, “Roadtrip.”
~ Letters Tied With Ribbon
He was my storm
I was his shelter
He, with dagger and compass
I, with torn heart
Stood stone still
A bringer of darkness
I was his light
Shipwrecked and broken
I picked his ruins
Salvaged the grit and the glass
He shivered from fever
I lit the fire
As he dreamed of ships in the night
Of sirens and seas, of pirates and plunder
I polished his pieces, held shards to light
Disturbed and addicted to Aigaios’ charm,
He swanned in the clutches of tempests
I swayed with symphony and sound
He was my storm
I was his shelter
Or was it the other way round?
~ Oceans and Storms
Their moments were fleeting; at times, raw. This, was that moment.
She giggled. A child’s head popped up from beneath the table. His daughter, a sprite of girl straightened and met his stare. A paper doll dangled from her fingertips. The style of doll was familiar; he knew Jacqueline had sketched it, had painted in the model like features and cut it to form.
“I didn’t see you,” he laughed. “How long have you been here?”
She was his light beam; her smile tamed darkness.
In that moment she charmed him. Feet planted, Annie straightened and dared: stay. Her ruffled blonde hair, wide bangs cut short, and one off- centered, green eye, opened wide; he had noticed her tricks.
Instantly, Annie lowered her head and the spell was broken.
He crouched beside her. Gently, his fingertips smoothed the tussled strands of her hair into place. He cupped her dimpled chin and waited for her to look up. When she did, he traced the freckled path along her cheekbone. Surgical tape stuck to the skin above her left eyebrow. One edge of the tape had lifted. Carefully, his fingertip pressed the errant corner into place. He knew she hated the eye patch, always picked at the edges to get free of the gauze covering.
He lingered in that moment. She was his black cat bone, his good luck charm.
Fury and force heaved and shattered all that dared defy their presence. With exhaled breath, they battered the stalwart evergreens. Tree- tops spun. Boughs snapped and fell.
I knew it was a matter of time.
In the distance, a low rumble shot like a freight train through the land. The faint thundering of hooves grew louder. Beside me, a squirrel scurried for shelter. Overhead, a raven screamed a spell.
A veil hung, ominous and sheer, separating earth from the heavens. Deafening silence overtook the land. The faintest sound was the pumping of my heart. Even still, I was not afraid.
Leaves spun, suspended in air. Shades of red through orange, shapes of maple and oak teased my outstretched hand. Pinecones scattered and rolled across the mossy carpet beneath my feet.
From a clearing he appeared, lit beneath the hunter’s moon. I watched ringed fingers grip and tug the reins. The stallion reared, muscles taut, its coat damp and shiny, head twitching side to side.
On the charge’s back sat the royal one. A body clothed in leather, eyes the sparks of flint, a rugged face devoid of emotion.
It was then I glimpsed his truth. I saw one hand lift, watched as his fingers stroked the mane. The steed lowered its head and stood like stone.
The Storm King lifted from the saddle. Dark, dangerous, beautiful and mysterious he kneeled before me and bowed.
Channeling the Dahlia
A quiet early morning drive
Fresh picked from a local farm
Sipping black coffee
Pause to focus on the simple, the peaceful, the beauty, and the bliss.
Enjoy the weekend!
“A smile is the prettiest thing you can wear.”
~ Audrey Hepburn
The day was mine to pick. Sunshine, friendship, laughter and smiles; who could ask for more? Dahlia’s gathered from a local farm add some old-fashioned charm to a simple swooshy idiom Kate Spade vase (Posy Court- Medium).