Skip to main content

Trinket of Past

  Travels and laughter, those are the memories that I have stored in my beloved heart.  I have many trinkets and treasures that I have collected from my journeys.  An aura of fondness surround these porcelain statues.  They take me back to a time of enchantment and youth.  Daydreams take me adrift to snow-embellished mountains and pristine oceans I have tasted. These memories boom with excitement and laughter.  

My gem, my treasure; a white unicorn, wisps me back to a time of splendor.  I revisit a mountain peak I conquered.  I stand there in awe.  I snap a post-card picture.  My family resides around me. Love floats in the misty air.
Trinket of Past 

Trinkets of past
take off your dust masks


Porcelain Unicorn, shine through,
make travel memories boom


White horse, silver chain,
canter with me to rocky Maine


Brave, dark eyes,
bring back purple mountains
and serenity sighs


Rearing majesty, adjacent blue jewels,
take me to aquamarine, saltwater pools


Hoofs of beating thunder,
lift me up,
take me to that funny joke blunder


Trinket of past,
take me to starry, ebony skies up yonder


Stallion of strength,
stampede my mind,
take me to toasty, warm campfires


Mane of pearl,
cascade over me,


Take my heart to deer meadows asunder
Gallop with me to rosy love,
and youth that's fonder



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pine Heart Roots

  On a Friday afternoon, I packed the car and my mom and I drove down Sea Blue Lane.   Our destination was Pine Prairie, Louisiana.   Wheels rolled down blacktop while music notes rocked and rolled through the Malibu.   We sped through Lafayette and entered “Country Land”.   As I passed by horses, my eyes lit up with little girl joy, as usual.   Cows grazed as clouds speckled their backs.   The bayous were fading behind us as pine trees started to grow in their place.   The scenery was refreshing, renewing our minds with fresh crawfish waters.   We finally arrived at my cousin, Dana’s house and parked upon O’Banion territory.   I needed to strip my bark of “stress needles” and regrow peace around my “pine heart”.       I was feeling distant from my dad.   Year after year, the roughness I once felt on his hand was smoothing.   He is branded in my heart, but I needed that brand to be lit under fire ...
2 comments
Read more

Country Bound

Country Bound I travel down a mellow, yellow sunflower road upon miniscule “wishing” pebbles.   A monument stands tall amiss sprightly wildflowers.   Rustic, red barn, tell me your wisdom, tell me your stories.   A split rail fence is my guide, built by thick, rough hands.   It dances to a patterned rhythm around a charming, pastel blue farmhouse.   I am country bound, my soul to be found. I pass by a field flowing with radiant corn.   Stalks stand tall, presiding over misty pastures.   Golden wheat is nuzzled with sunny rays.   It waltzes with the wind and tangos with blades of grass.   Hearts of farmers beat in rolling hills, growing “love soy seeds”. An apple pie sits on a crackled window sill cooling for attention.   Cinnamon swirls through a two-story house.   Maple beans, sweet greens, and cornbread overflow the Amish-built table.   Greens pop into savoring mouths.   Sugary beans candy-coat t...
Post a Comment
Read more

Ice Skating Beyond the Wood

    I once lived out in the country, beyond the babbling noise of car horns, banshee sirens, and life's marathons.  Those years were spent amongst the forest and foxes unseen.  Turkeys and bubbly bunnies were our woodland neighbors.  Milk cows jingled, jangled across the distant pasture.  Tawny deer sidled near the glistening pond, making neighbors with their shadows upon the ice.  God's peace nestled on the porch of our quaint "Ponderosa". My brother and I decided to go ice skating one December eve.  My dad, a bristly fellow, took up shovel and headed to our pond "beyond the wood".  He heaved and hoed, shoveling snow off the "present wrapped" ice.  Snow tipped oak branches where robins once perched.  Flurries floated, settling upon my hard-working dad.  My brother and I dressed as warm as puffy Eskimos.  We trudged and nudged through the white, pure land.  Hopping Jacque Cousteau (my dog), followed our ...
Post a Comment
Read more