Tag Archives: love

Beautiful Friend

 

I could —

But there is Death to remember,

Jim’s beautiful friend,

there is the pain to remember

the pretty red thoughts of steel on skin

and the stinging bite as you slide flesh under blade

~

I could —

But there is a time for everything

and maybe my bones need not be ground to dust just yet

or maybe there is time left to dream

~

I am a butterfly in chains,

black booted, bereaved, all in sinner’s black

~

There is a time and place for everything

oh why is it so damn difficult

this business of love and Death

and oh what a mess

~Melanie Thomason

3 Comments

Filed under Poetry, reblog

everlasting love

 

when poet meets muse

their kisses are poetry;

everlasting love

~Melanie Thomason

4/7/19

 

2 Comments

Filed under haiku, Poetry

shadow of what once was

Image by bruce lam from Pixabay

in fleeting kisses

our breaths mingle

hands once held tightly

have lost their grasp

still our lives are entwined

our love is still true

just a shadow

of what once was

~Melanie Thomason

4/6/19

 

 

9 Comments

Filed under Poetry

woman of his dreams

a murmuring voice called to him softly from the forest

perplexing, as no one was supposed to be around

no one for miles

that is why he chose this place

the breeze carried sweet songs of wren to his ear

normally he would delight in their melody,

yet their tune was agitating

distracting him from finding the source of the lulling, hypnotic siren’s call

 he needed to find the voice that, even now, from a distance,

was having such a palliative effect on him

giving him hope and new reason to live

he walked a bit too briskly through the woods,

finding patches of dried leaves made for slippery footing

and he almost tumbled into the lake before he saw it

and it was her reflection that first mesmerized

there was something supernal about her beauty

he was half afraid she would evaporate when he looked up

yet

there she was… in graphic detail, drenched in sunlight

fully exposed to his hungry, grateful gaze

not vapor, yet not really flesh and bone

skin kissed golden by an artist’s brush,

hair adorned with flowers and moss,

she was the epitome of beauty and nature

she was all he searched for yet never felt worthy of

at once he felt a desire, a lust, not for his pleasure alone

but to see her face alight with joy, with ecstasy

and to know that he had given that to her

who had given him everything

~Melanie Thomason

5/12/2014

 

 

 

 

 

3 Comments

Filed under Poetry

math and baggage

we are but travelers here

picking up a few souvenirs along the way

i know things don’t always go right

and so i write

ya see I’ve never been good at math

but when I feel like i have nothing left

it all adds up to you

there beside me,

slightly to the left

making me more than one

and i know that i have won

I am worthy of love after all

and that particular piece of baggage can be tossed aside

cause i no longer have need of it

~Melanie Thomason

 

 

 

 

 

10 Comments

Filed under Poetry, reblog

tangled up in you

Walking around in circles

never seems

to get me very far

Somehow

despite the distance,

I keep ending up

back

exactly where you are

You see my love,

my heart

is all tangled up in you 

And whether or not you want it

there is nothing you can do

My heart keeps returning,

it seems out of my control

You see without you I am lacking,

I am strong

but I am un-whole

Now don’t mishear me,

I’m not looking for fairy tales

Fireworks are overrated,

true love is in the day to day details

I’m not expecting a white knight hero

on a charging stately steed

All I’m expecting is to finally

get precisely what I need

I’m older now

and I’ve been around the block

a time or two

I’m tired of waiting,

ready to start now,

how bout you?

 

~Melanie Thomason

4/4/2018

3 Comments

Filed under Poetry

AllIWant/BlueChristmas/PleaseComeHome

This is for all those whose only wish for wrapping this Christmas Day

is to feel the arms of lost loved ones wrapped around them.

 

playing on the radio yet again is, “All I Want for Christmas is You”

and all she can think is “Yeah, right…

and I believe you too”

 

and then she hears “I’ll have a Blue Christmas without you…”

and sighs, because what does he know

about this kind of blue

 

“Please Come Home for Christmas”, never will come true

when your love has gone and left this world

forever, without you.

 

~Melanie Thomason

 

 

 

 

 

4 Comments

Filed under Poetry

Rock and the Leaf

I wanted to share a short story that I recently found while going through the belongings my best friend’s recently departed brother.   I found the story charming and thought that more than just I should read it…so I typed it up to share here.  My only edits are adding a bit of punctuation and a couple words [indicated in brackets] just for clarity and ease of reading.  I do hope you enjoy it!

 


Rock and the Leaf

Once there was a rock.  Not a big rock but a rock securely anchored with other rocks which were under water.  The water slewed around him and over them and made a quiet little eddy behind.  He made a nice, precise little place and the water just flowed around him.

He set there for a long time and the mosses and bugs that lived around began to trust him.  They began to grow and live around him.  Beautiful green moss nourished by the water flourished on his back.  He provided shelter for the bugs that lived in and around the water.  He sheltered them well through the dry hard times when the water ebbed and his brother rocks could see what he was doing then and he sheltered them when the creek raged.

Beautiful creatures began to live there; the wondrous water boatmen, pixie flies and quick water striders.  They all praised him for his strength and great power.  It was about this time that strangers came and began to marvel at the beautiful effect that came with all the wonderful creatures living around him.  Water burbled, birds sang, sunlight glinted off “his” water.  People came from all around to look at this beautiful sight.  Somebody set up a stone bench so that people could stop, rest, and gaze [at] this little scene.  It was so beautiful.

Then one day, on a warm sparkling autumn day, a leaf float[ing] by became enchanted by the quiet little cove created by the rock and his friends.  So she slipped.  “Hi,” she said in a throaty voice.  “Hi,” said the rock, pleased with the creek, the water, and everything.  He was doing a good job and he knew it.  “This is a nice place,” she said, “I like what you’ve done here.”  “Thank you,” said the rock, “I like how you swirl [and] your colors are so pretty.”  “Thank you,” said the leaf, “Do you mind if I rest here a bit? I’m a little tired.”  “By all means, please do,” said the rock, “That is why I’m here.” His chest swelled noticeably.  The leaf smiled and nestled right in.  The rock smiled benevolently upon [the] leaf.  He liked the way she lay against him. The edge of her stem tickled him.  The tips of her touched him in a way he’d never been touched before.  It was strange but nice, sort of like the wings of a butterfly.  She fell asleep.

The next day she awoke in the bright sunshine.  The rock said, “Hello, good morning.”  She said, “Hello, sleep well.”  “I don’t sleep,” said the rock, “I have to stand fast or else all creatures under my care are cast away.”  “Oh really?” she asked. “I never really worry about that, I just find another rock when I need to, or a log, or the side of a branch.  It’s really no trouble and quite simple.

They talked many hours.  He told her about the bugs and the people.  She told [him] about the many sights she had seen; the mosque on the hill, the beautiful cherries, cemeteries, [and] people’s homes.  She talked of many things.  He talked about the many storms he’d weathered.  [About how he had] almost been dislodged once and he’d hung on saving the delicate green mosses [and] the minnows their home.

So they lived for a while.  Her colors fascinated him; she had reds, greens, yellows all over and a streak of dark red that made him [think] of winter frost.

One night there was a storm and she wasn’t near him.  He couldn’t see in the dark.  He couldn’t feel her touch either.  He was afraid she’d gone, but she hadn’t.  In the morning he found her drifting near where the current was strong.  “Don’t leave,” he called.  She spun his way, all crinkly, and said, “Oh, but I must.  I don’t want to stay here.  You are very beautiful but there are other sights to see and things to do.”  “There are sights here, too” he said.  “It’s too quiet here,” she said laughing gaily.  “The quiet is where the deepest wonder is,” he said miserably.

She floated off.  He watched her drift off.  “I don’t care if you leave,” he muttered, “…I don’t…”  She didn’t hear.

He didn’t miss her until the next night, when the tendril of touch that she used to hold on with was gone.  Night followed day and then night.  “Leaf-la,” he thought, “where have you gone?”  As the water moved around him it began to eat away under his moorings.  His grip became looser and still the water wore on.  His brothers called to him in dismay, but he paid no heed.  He kept looking downstream.  “I wish I were a leaf,” he thought despairingly.  “Leaf-la where are you?” he said.

The water wore on.  Pieces of moss began to float away.  The bugs began going someplace else to eat and raise their young.  The minnows left.  People stopped coming to sit and watch the rock and his minions.  The water had a plain raucous sound.  “Rock what’s going on?” asked his brother rocks.  He would not reply.

That night a roaring rushing came down the creek.  Rock didn’t care.  “Leaf-la,” he thought [as] the water lifted him, “Leaf-la, I’m coming.”  Down the creek he went with other nomadic rocks.  Stumbling and splashing he jerked along.  “Leaf-la I’m coming.”

He used all his knowledge of water to move along.  He stayed where the current was strong. [He] avoided big stopper rocks.  Still even after all the rocks he’d known had stopped, he kept on bumping and stumbling ever onward, looking for Leaf-la.

By Bruce McJilton

9 Comments

Filed under Stories