Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Love’

.

Capricious one

I often wonder

if in truth

our hearts grow fonder

.

longing for

the agate blue

of sky-reflecting

drops of dew,

.

of simple pleasures

on the skin

and tender truths

to wrap us in

.

fine threads of wisdom

knit with choices

weaving through

those distant voices

.

firing up

our tender hopes

while mating in

kaleidoscopes.

.

Then shall we

consummate the sun?

I wonder,

oh capricious one.

.

.

© 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

.

She still remembers

his deep embrace    

in the open entryway

.

and the salty taste of urgency

on the tongue

of an April day

.

and their offering

to the gods

as it hung in the sun to dry

.

to fluff and fold,

but tenderly —

in the wrinkles of goodbye.    

.

.

(c) 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Read Full Post »

.

O vernal sun,

come sweeten the rain

as you plant your secrets

under thick moss —

.

lend the forsythia

pots of gold

and warm the stones

that circle our garden —

.

let poppies buzz

and sword ferns uncurl

as Earth becomes great

with tender.

.

.

(c) 1994, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

.

An old one, never published here… that I know of.  

.

Wishing everyone in the northern hemisphere a beautiful Springtime!  🌷 

And to all of us – north, south, east, west – may love, wisdom and peace someday reign on this mixed up world of ours. 💚

 

Read Full Post »

Yarn

.

Knit, purl, knit, purl,

give the spool another whirl,

.

pray I do not drop a stitch,

just let me add another inch,

.

never mind – make it two

and soon I’ll have a wrap for you,

.

any shape, any size

in Dutch blue just like your eyes.

.

Put it on o’er your head

or wear it as a shawl instead,

.

hold it tightly like a hug

or roll it out like a rug,

.

spread it on your bed at night

or in the closet out of sight.

.

He loves me, he loves me not,

doesn’t matter, I’m still caught

.

stuck inside a ball of yarn,

unravel me between your arms,

.

then hold me to your face – pretend

that I can kiss your face again.

.

Knit, purl, knit, purl,

give the spool another twirl

.

and when at last we’re all unwound

I will put my needles down.

.

.

© 2013, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(re-posted from 2013)

Read Full Post »

.

You are the beloved.

Light pumps through your veins,

breathes around your bones

in great gulps

of daring.

.

You are the sacred numen,

the burning bush,

the insatiable flame

forever consummated,

but never consumed.

.

.

(c) 2012, 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Read Full Post »

.

Afternoon gloom —

I know it will soon

be time to tread the snowy path home.

.

A distant candle

lights the way

to my fire, my books, and my love.

.

And tomorrow the sun

will rise a bit sooner

dispelling the darkness a little bit longer,

.

melting away

the frostbitten edge

of this unsung penumbra of night.

.

.

(c) 1988, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(An old, unpublished poem, taken out of mothballs.)

.

Read Full Post »

New-fallen

.

I still remember

your winter mourning

when you were dark-empty

.

and I reached

through the ether

and wrapped my arms

around your shadow

tasting your hard tears

.

and you stood taller than light

with grief,

new-fallen and noble

as the snow.

.

.

(c) 1994, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: