Wrapped in a fulsome fold

Photo by Kevin Brunet on Unsplash

I watched the sage turn the page
and open up the vault
from whence a bluebird flew
in a world of fault.

The cloak of years that he wore
wrapped in a fulsome fold
hid secrets and mysteries
and narrative of pure gold.

Though enclosed they flew to those
who wanted to be free
exposed transparent and open
for all the world to see.

Unravelled from an intimate tapestry
they circulated and took on fresh facades
some stood and were readily counted
others fell like a pack of cards.

They entertained the beggar and pauper
and turned the rich men away

Me, myself, and I — This is who I am

Photo by Enzo B on Unsplash

I am shaped by the wind and the weather
and am who I am
I’ve been on this planet for ages
and do only what I can.

I’ve lived a lucky life
it’s had its highs and lows
there’s been days of sunshine
and dark days when the wild wind blows.

What I’ve done no longer matters
there’s nothing left to prove
as the record of life keeps turning
I’m the one that must approve.

What I do as I walk onwards
and tread softly as I can
and tell tales of my life in poetic form
about the race I ran…

Into mysteries we both crave

Photo by Kourosh-Gaffari-Unsplash

Your eyes are pools I’ve gazed into,
your smile as warm as sunshine,
I’ve walked the track where you have been,
in different moods and fun time.

Mirrors of light shades of dark,
sparks of recognition,
kindle knowledge yet untold,
life put on full ignition.

Deep souls stir and come alive,
thoughts rustle and wave,
click the switch to overdrive,
into mysteries we both crave.

Pure delight colours the day,
along dusty tracks untrodden,
words unused, what will they say,
of times almost forgotten.

The affinity melds kindred souls,
clouds kissed with richer colour,
succulence fills up our bowls,
unlike seen from any…

The moon melts into butter.

Photo by Valery Sysoev on Unsplash

Moving across the dance floor,
The swish and perfumed air,
Then I walk out the door,
Seemingly without care.

Gazing at the city lights,
The music drifts on by,
The moon melts into butter,
Wee droplets from the sky.

I climb the stairs to heaven
And hold you in my hands
You hide then slide away from me
To spread on other lands.

A shivering sensation,
Someone I cannot see,
The phantom of the opera,
Holds your golden key.

It twists and turns and opens,
My mind to find within,
Kinetic absolution,
Besides my next of kin.

I wish and…

Sacks full of daydreams

Photo by Tim Cooper on Unsplash

Down the back
In my secret garden
Where plants grow
Unseen by the sun
They flower
Then all
Of a sudden
Out of them
The nectar
Will run.

It’s collected
In wee
Small goblets
By faeries
With wings
On fire,
Then little gnomes
Trudge out of
The forest
Onward they march
Never to tire.

I’ve watched them
The Flowers
Where new blooms
Magically appear
And out of
The petals
Make dresses
Then dance hide
And then

The gnomes
Carry sacks full
Of daydreams
And cast
Them into the air
The Queen faerie gathers
In baskets
Without a whim
Or a care…

Amazing photo thanks to Grindle Rudder.

Photo by Grindle Rudder.

Dappled signatures of suffused sunlight
Written on the sand under the sea
Rays of light birth and renewal
Cures my soul and lets my spirit free.

Suspended in the turquoise ocean
Washed by waves warmed by the morning sun
Caught in the glitter of diamonds
Woven fashioned and infinitely spun.

Fathoms disappear into illusions
Magnification elastic and enlarged
Magic is the matter of the moment
All responsibility discharged.

Swimming in the sepulcher of silence
Sounds of silence sleekly resonate
Thoughts move to the missing
The ones I solemnly dedicate.

In and out of caverns of seawater
Waves wash the salt into…

Wearing masks.

Photo by André Ravazzi on Unsplash

On the train, it’s so mundane
Boredom written on the faces
Wearing masks my mind asks
Are they off to the races?

Not circular in orbit
Nor centered in a circle
Peculiar and offbeat
They line up at the local.

Misfits with no agenda
Head cases on the fringe
On a quirky bender
Or wacky way-out binge.

Free spirits out of kilter

With the straight and narrow
An idiosyncratic filter
Bends the straightest arrow.

Non-aligned with the conventional
Individuals with character
Minds multi-dimensional
An uncommon sort of actor.

Without X N trick behavior
Days would be dull as dishwater
Adopt a misfit…

David Rudder

I enjoy exploring my mind by being a diarist and writing a daily poem to reflect my thoughts…

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