The Softness of Time

 Mountains and Rivers 052

Some say time is a thief, stealing from us

precious moments, but really time gives us

special times, postpones our death

when we are young and old.

As you and I grow softer

our stems still grow

with the confidence

of knowing the sun,

our flowers

are just beginning,

blooming and opening,

becoming more

beautiful.

than ever.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

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Sun in the Garden

Vacation 597

I will lament the loss of snow, the two of us, wrapped in warm blankets, on the sofa sipping hot tea, reading to each other. Peace falling.

But I always look forward to the sun in the garden, with you dressed in your old clothes, digging in the dirt. A spade in your hand, and the warmth on your cheeks. No one ever looked more beautiful in a sun hat. A woman of the earth.

So what should we plant this year?

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

The Rose

Roses 004

The rose that I gave you on our first date

still lingers in our hearts as we kiss,

and a diamond sparkles in both of us

as we hold each other protecting.

Battle scars have only expanded

our universe, tears no longer

encased, pulling us closer

in spite of the pain

and scars taught us

how to fight for each other

made our wild horses run

even stronger.

And it all began

 with a single rose,

and then a promise

to always love

and cherish

with diamonds

 sparkling.

       

Happy Valentines Day Everyone!

          

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

The Hidden Artist – The Gallery

painting by Claude Monet
                                        painting by Claude Monet

He always had kept a place in his heart for the Impressionists. He and Karina would spend hours in the art museum, in love with each other, discussing Monet, or Cassatt. As he stood looking in through the glass of the gallery, on his way to the elevator, he smiled for the first time in months. It was a reproduction from Monet.

His mind drifted, and it was almost as if he could smell Karina’s hair, and they were at the museum again, he was that close to her. He imagined his nose buried in her long, blond, beautiful hair, and he was whispering sweet words into her ear.

Suddenly he shook it off, angry with himself for feeling. He headed for the elevator with determination in his step. But at the end of the day, he stopped by the gallery on the way out.

He looked at his watch, and realized they closed in ten minutes. Taking a step inside was one of the bravest things he had ever done. As he walked in he was amazed at the original work by local artists, the nature photography, and the reproductions. He was stunned, simply by the beauty of art.

And then he met her. “May I help you?” Her name tag said, “Mary”. Shocked, that someone had spoken to him, he stumbled over his words, and said, “No I was just looking.” He quickly walked out the door. He didn’t realize it, but a door was beginning to open. It was only a small opening, but some light was starting to get in……

    

To be continued.

       

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image from en.wikipedia.org

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Hidden Artist

painting by Mary Cassatt
                                                 painting by Mary Cassatt

He enjoyed being a piece of stone. He refused to feel anything, and went to work each day, grateful for the routine, for something to do. No one knew who he was, or his background. Most didn’t even know his name. After Karina and the baby had died in the car accident, he had switched jobs, and he had instructed his new boss to never tell anyone. He made it clear he did not ever want hear, “I’m sorry to hear about what happened.”

So he faded very well, blended right in. All the friends they used to have, had been Karina’s, so it was easy to lose touch. He sold the house, moved into an apartment, went to work each day, enjoying the coldness of refusing to feel. It was safer.

He had stopped painting, and swore he would never paint again, because painting involved love, involved feeling emotions. He refused it every day. This went on for two years, until one day a small gallery opened up, on the ground floor of his office building.

It was the paintings that first caught his eye…….

To be continued.

         

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image from en.wikipedia.org

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Love at the Beach

Oceans 195

A Prose Poem

Not acting our age, you take off running, “You can’t catch me!” “Yes I can!” You give up, and I yell, “Gothcha!” “Don’t you DARE tickle me again!” Laughing, then holding you, we both look at the waves, “Listen a love song…” “I hear it….”

“Look our shadows.” “Where’s the camera, here……hold still……” “My cowboy!” “Sshhhh, someone might hear you!” “Hold still…got it.” “I love how you look on the beach.” Our foreheads meet, eyes locked in on each other.  Lips greeting one another, as if they were lost, and now they were found. They get entangled in a beautiful mess. The muffled sounds of, “I will always love you.” And “You taste like peanut butter.” Laughing again, and whispering next to the waves.

I love when we don’t act our age.

          

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Contemplation

Maine and More 551

When we were young,

the leaves were beginning to turn,

on our wedding day,

our love was orange quickly,

turning to red,

we were breathing deeply,

learning about air.

Now that we are older,

our love is softer,

but deeper, and the leaves,

turning to a rich golden,

brown.

Even if they do fall,

our love will not end,

living,

growing instead,

as tall as an uncut cedar,

while the snow speaks softly,

whispering approval,

the wind caressing our limbs,

as we look up,

into the warm,

winter sun.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”