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Posts Tagged ‘Love’

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Is grief a particle

or a wave

that washes over

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the speed of light

bending space around

our massive loss?

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Or is it just

the parenthetic spark

in an equation

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the final proof

that love

connects us all?

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©  2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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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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Shaman man,

you knew every fold

hidden in the riddling

curtain of reality.

You saw the bare

bones of motive,

the underpinnings

of facade.

You were strength and power.

But you also knew tenderness,

the sweet kiss

on the cheek of a lover

slumbering in your bed.

But alas, you also knew

when to go.

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Oh Shaman man

do not doubt another season,

a time not jaded

by an overdose of obstacle.

For when we touch

again, we’ll have

a thousand years to spare.

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© 2014, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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(a Mayberrie poem)

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Once a week

she braves the village,

trades her woven scarves

for bread and cheese,

and candle sticks.

She offers just a veiled smile

and searches every face;

she dare not speak

of things she shouldn’t know.

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At dusk she climbs the deer path

to her cottage on the hill

and there she lights one candle stick.

As wisps of smoke slide up the wall

like lovers twined

she gazes at the flame and sees

battle-weary men at rest

tending to their fire;

and there!

in the shadowed edge

a single silhouette.

He turns her way

as though he feels her near.

 

She reaches through

the waxen light

and hangs her heart

around his neck,

then throwing kisses

to the night

she banks the fire

in his eyes

and blows the candle out.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(A re-post, revised)

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(For a future children’s book, maybe….)

 

imagesc

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Dotty little lady bug,

I would give you such a hug

but if I hold you close to me

I’m afraid you’ll cease to be

so I shall place you on my finger,

maybe you won’t go, but linger

till a breeze lifts you away – 

another flower, another day.

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© 2013, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(A re-post.  Photo from http://www.wallpaprest.com)

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She holds a sphere

of white hot light

in hands stretched high

to reach the night.

“Oh Eros”, she prays secretly,

“come take this round

of your creation,

guard its flame

forever more

and I’ll dance gratefully

in the embers,

one man’s fire

seared into my palm.

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(c)  1995, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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(just something light, from 1993)

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Wake me when the morning comes,

call me from a dream

when the day is cracking open

and the sunrise spreads like cream.

Together we will wander

and together we can drink

of morning glory nectar

till the air is polished pink.

Then let us go a-dancing

through the ripples of the day

till evening shadows climb the sky

to seed the Milky Way.

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© 1993, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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