Photo: thedutchrose.blogspot.com

Photo: thedutchrose.blogspot.com

A Sonnet

The more you have of love, the more you need,
yet all you have has failed to satisfy.
Now open wide the door to ecstasy;
you’ve gifts and grace just waiting to be freed.

You parrot words you hear the other say.
Do feelings flow from deep within your heart?
Are you afraid to breathe, to do your part—
surrendering yourself when others may

withhold response, ignore, abuse your trust?
Abandoning reserve is fraught with fear.
But if you never dare to shed a tear,
you’ll find no love, but only fleeting lust.

Oh, Self, these words could open you to pain.
The choice is yours. So will you live in vain?

Initially written for and linked to dVerse Poets Open Link Night. Linking on Valentine’s Day to The Bardo Group‘s invitation to share poems of love.

Love’s Colors

A love poem submitted to One Stop Poetry’s Friday Poetically: http://onestoppoetry.com/

Photo: V. Slotto

Love’s Colors
a Haibun

The crystal lovebirds that you gave me sit here on my windowsill, catching rays of sunshine, splitting them into arcs of color that spill onto my desk across a pile of paper. They shimmy up the wall and cast a spell throughout the room.

And I recall days
of ripe cherries on our tree,
of scarlet kisses.

When first we married and moved up here to the Sierra Nevada, our lives were filled with work. Establishing our home, our yard. Making a living. But in-between-moments filled our every day with beauty.

And I recall days
of rising sun casting orange
on snow-clad mountains.

Our life wasn’t always easy. Like our garden, it required maintenance and a lot of work. It still does. But looking back I can see how we discovered goodness in one another and the work it takes to make a marriage work.

And I recall days
of dandelion dances,
both weeds and wonders.

There were moments when we seemed to grow apart. When work and health concerns or money brought us worries and challenges.

And I recall days
of growth needing attention—
gardens to be pruned.

We are both pretty stubborn, you know. How did we manage to stay together, to change without losing ourselves in the process? Is this why too many marriages fail?

And I recall days
of cloud-obscured cobalt skies
threatening rainfall.

A few times we hit bottom.

And I recall nights
filled with indigo darkness,
reaching for your hand.

And you were there to take it. I wish we could tell younger people that all the work it takes is so worthwhile. That like the days of a relationship—the scarlet kisses and the indigo darkness—love is splashed with colors of the rainbow. All the colors are there, hidden in the moment.

And these are the days
we paint in our memory’s
color-filled palette.

A Haibun is a poetic form combining prose with haiku.