pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Poets

Dream the Love, and Love the Dream (A Wrapped Refrain)

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Photo by Keith R. Good

When poets sigh, they sigh for love –
In awe of fragrant fruit thereof.
To spill the heart from breast to page
Release it from its living cage –
Free fragrant ache to fill the soul, and reach the sky,
And my-oh-my, breathe in love’s scent, when poets sigh.

And how I dream our words would fill
Our world with peace.  With love.  Goodwill.
And I believe that words can heal
And so I’ll write, and speak. Appeal
To peacemakers whose soothing words are as a stream
In moonlit gleam.  It’s how I pray, and how I dream.

When poets write, they seek within
To find the space where dreams begin
Where love writes sighs, and peace prevails
Where words can heal, and goodwill sails
To span the breadth of all that’s true, and there alight.
We’ll dream the love, and love the dream, when poets write.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

No Place Like Home

garden-gate-3505533_1280

Photo credit:  Pixabay

The garden gate parts,
releasing sweet aroma
of former florae.

She softly steps in,
breathing the beauty that binds
virtuous voices.

The presence of peace
silences the restlessness
grinding at the gate.

Now bejeweled with joy,
renewing friends and florae,
she picks up her pen.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

Response to Poetic Bloomings Prompt #209

TIME TO TEND (ANNOUNCEMENT of REOPENING OF POETIC BLOOMINGS!)

Spring Sunset At Lake Garda Desktop Background

Image credit:  Pixabay

She and a friend she’d never seen
used to tend a garden – serene
and seemingly ceaseless.
Meandering beauty gleaned
from home, and continents afar –
grand cognizance of sand to star,

and all that lay between.

There came a time, what needed tending
sadly meant the swift suspending
of this space the tenders prized –
teemed with blooms that mesmerized.
Sorrow burrowed ‘neath the furrowed fields.
Gone, fresh blossoms.  No new yields.

Seasons rose, and seasons fell.
A new day dawned and she, compelled
by want and bond, returned to see
once-planted seeds still bloom, carefree.

Her heart looked east, and there he was,
with tools and seeds and garden gloves.
He glanced, and flashed that knowing grin,
tendered a spade, and said, “Let’s dig in!”
And they both saw that it was fate,

as they unlatched the garden gate.

© Marie Elena Good

ANNOUNCEMENT: 

Walter J. Wojtanik and I are teaming back up to reopen our Poetic Bloomings site.  We’d love to have you join us there!

More details:  https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/2018/07/31/the-return-of-bloomings/ 

BLOODY GOOD POETRY

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Photo by Keith R. Good

 

Words strung
Flung prettily
Wittily, woefully
Notably touching
Clutching passion
Fashioning splendor
Rendering reader
Bleeder  

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

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