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Posts Tagged ‘heart’

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And she will dwell

in a cottage of white

and wait for him

at the river’s edge

with birds and breezes

tending the trees.

And they’ll be coming

through the woods,

the poets and flutists

late at night

and after they’re gone

she’ll dance naked

through

the wildflowers

beneath the moon

a yellow ribbon

tied around her heart.

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(c) 1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post from 2012)

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They say it’s coming

strong winds

unusual for June.

Large trees bursting

with foliage

are at risk.

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They say his heart

was enlarged

(with generosity)

at risk

for a death

out of season.

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Tomorrow when the storm hits

I will go outside

and stand among the trees.

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© 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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A poet’s blood

flows to the brain

and out again

with just one change –

the cells are richer,

colored by

a metaphor,

a mystic eye

that sees it all

from higher land

then bleeds on those

who understand.

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(c) 1992, 2016 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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1965 drawing

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Re-posted from my ’60’s blog: Summers of Love

(From 1965 – age 18)

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This wasn’t what she had in mind,

she’d meant to keep his feelings light,

she hadn’t meant for him to fall,

in fact she never dreamed he might.

But then he said that heavy word

that stunned and made her want to flee

and when he asked her how she felt

no words would come, she wanted free.

She knew the fault was in her self

not to have seen the tenderness

that shined so deeply from his eyes

and spoke of more than friendliness.

If only she had heard his sighs

or felt his pulse beneath her touch

she might have realized weeks ago

his feelings had become too much.

Sparks that should have been snuffed out

had turned to flames within his heart,

she saw the glow and didn’t know

why she’d allowed his love to start.

This wasn’t what I had in mind,

her thoughts were pleading silently

but while her reasoning rebelled

her heart was pounding happily.

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(c) 1965, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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Faded pencil drawing (c) 1965, 2015

(I was never an artist – poor guy doesn’t have any elbows.

And he’s standing on her toes!)

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Moon waxed too full

and shattered into pieces

at her feet.

She gathered up the silver shards

to form into Moon again

but they no longer fit

and so she reached her hands

into the sky

and tendered them with Sun

and with a deep caress

she smoothed the bits

and pieces

into Heart.

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©  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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On the edge of dreams

gentle kisses touch my face,

you breathe in my heart.

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©  2012  Betty Hayes Albright 

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Resuscitation

Oh Muse,

source: wikipedia

into our empty lungs

blow deep

the lucid sky.

Inside these brimming

unsung hearts

pump earth

and trees and fire.

Smooth the scars

that line our veins,

infuse them

with the sea,

till we inhale

your playful light

and breathe out

poetry.

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(c) 1994, 2011 Betty Hayes Albright

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