Dancing in my dreams

Moon beams dancing upon rooftops

How I wish I could join in

Weary legs, broken feet

Dance only in memories

Moon beams competing with the sun

No way to outshine that heated glory

And I, with worn body feel her pain.

She just doesn’t have it in her

To light the world that way

Moonbeams, does she not yet know

How she feeds our souls

And I, with my youth long spent,

Gaze up into the night skies

Wishing to touch the moon

For her glory, too, is faded

When compared with a sun so bright

So age to youth is seen

A pale shadow of what was once

And yet, and still, there’s a soul dance

Like moon beams on rooftops

And still alive am I

Dancing in my dreams

Trapped

Entrapped

By velvet words that purr and seduce

By seemingly earnest promises

And eyes that plead as they gaze into mine

“Little boy lost” is here yet again

Tweaking the heartstrings

Until they bleed in red and vibrant rivulets

Like spider’s silk that entomb

Wrapped tightly in their filaments

Hapless victim or helpless fool?

Who has the answers?

When “love” visits me?

The Gifts of Silence

Sweet silence, come

Come fill me with your peace and calm

In a world of noise and confusion

I choose silence

The quiet beckons me

And I come

To be cradled

Comforted

Consoled

In a world gone mad with greed

In a world so indifferent

To the weak and marginalized

Silence comes

To restore

Rejuvenate

And rebuild

Souls that thirst

For justice and equality

Come, please, come

Fill up our senses with the wisdom of quiet moments

Spent in prayer

And silence

Word Weaver

Andromeda with thanks to Pixabay

Beautiful weaver of words

Spin your fine tales once again

Bring us hope and light

In these dark days of sorrow

Of confusion and warfare

Word weaver

Intricate poet

Eloquent author

We need you now

Speak your words of hope into our hearts

Fan the dying spark

Let it leap into raging fire

To consume us now

With your passion

And loving heart

With your insight

And understanding

You know our hearts

And the secrets we keep within our beings

Blow up our wisps of desire

For a better world

For nations on their knees in worship

Yet do not know you

Word weaver

Knit us together once again

Heal our hurts

And help us know you once again

Word weaver

Princely peace

That you alone hold

Let us in on the secret

Of harmony

Of wholeness

Of you

Flower-child

Flower child, do you remember?

It was a season of revolution

Of rebellion

Of love and peace

Of fighting for the less fortunate

For fairer deals,

Locally and around the globe

Of sit-ins and marijuana

Of the generation gap

Or so they called it

What did you want, flower child?

Did you hope to change the world

And did you change it?

Aw, flower child

You live on

You have grandchildren now

And, perhaps, great grandchildren

Do you remember

How you tested the waters?

How you marched against war

And persecution?

Against segregation, and bigotry?

Did the world listen? Did it?

And does it even matter?

As long as the change you sought

Was realized

Deep within you

Aw, flower child

Bloom on

Dandelion Dreams

Photo by Herbert Goetsch on Unsplash

If I were a dandelion seed

And could float upon the winds

Where would the breezes take me?

What wonders would I see?

If I were a dandelion seed

Clinging to the fur of a four-legged being,

Would I feel secure as I were carried forth?

Or awash in fear and dread?

If I were a dandelion seed

And could plant myself wherever

In smallest depths of earth’s rich soil

In familiar or strange terrain

I wonder what I’d choose

If I were a dandelion seed

Of little weight or matter

I’d let the breeze carry me

And worry not and no decision make

For mother nature created me

And I’d trust in her embrace

So vulnerable

Weekend writing prompt #103: Vulnerable

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2019/04/27/weekend-writing-prompt-103-vulnerable/

Please, take extra special care

She is weak here in her lair

Pain-soaked and bloody

Exposed; at your mercy

So vulnerable