Stars II

Across the dark void
Brightening the light sparkles
And here is the voice

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Butterfly Cinquain: 2018-08-28

Syllable pattern : 2-4-6-8-2-8-6-4-2

airplanes
fly off my page
to land on your striped thought
for the key in your locked pocket

orphaned

IT’S STILL A MYSTERY

By Charles Robert Lindholm

It’s Still A Mystery
To Me
And Yet
It Seemed Real

Puzzles

puzzle these eyes
do wings beget shivers
do shivers beget wings

The Key, Lost

Have you found
The key to
Women’s heart
If you have

WHAT LIES BEHIND UNOPENED DOORS

WHAT LIES BEHIND UNOPENED DOORS
By Charles Robert Lindholm

What Lies Behind
Unopened Doors
Will Remain
Unknown And Unspoken,
A Mystery To Us
Forevermore

Ocean of Everything

3 of 3 in the Jemverse ‘Ocean’ trilogy

It’s the ocean of everything
I know and hold dear
And I’m part of its essence
That much remains clear

But explaining just why
is a difficult thing
There are words and a voice
and a mystery to bring

Earth

​*Alliteration Poem – Earth*

17th Oct’17  ~by Venkat

Edges evolve, epitaphs etched
Eyes echo, ears ensnare
Ears enchant, eyes eschew
Eagles exude, embers emaciated

I wonder what’s down there?

I wonder what’s down there, I thought
when wandering through the woods
The pathway looked mysterious
so I went there as I could
It took me to the undergrowth
the canopy complete
And showed me the dark forest
damp sod beneath my feet

Little Lights

Surrounded by darkness
as night settles in
Little pinpricks of light
point to where I have been
As with power from the sunlight
they get by the day
they come alive in the darkness
to light up my way

For the birds

On Ditching Down we found ourselves
‘For the Birds’ – a mystery tour
Part of the Brighton Festival
at midnight, what was more

A trail of lights led up the hill
which we followed to the crest
all adding to the mystery
which put us to the test

You Never Know

The thing about life is,
that you never know..

You never know who you hurt with the words you spoke,
or whose heart you accidentally broke.

You never know who you damaged every bit of their soul,
or whose shine you mercilessly stole.

Tower of Night

.

Tower of Night,

Dark river of Dreams,

Thundering Melody of Timeless Symphony.

Magic Whispers

.

Stone Circle

 

Stone Circle

Consider the stone circle
Do the stones collect impressions?
Perhaps imprinted like old photographs
Perhaps locked in their silicon crystals

Mystery Mauves

I don’t know what these flowers are called
though I searched Google for a while
Their mauve is simply glorious
and they certainly bring a smile

The not quite there

Contemplative quiet and still
now seems as good a time
to sit back here, reflective
whilst I’m feeling fine

Can’t quite put my finger on
though I’m trying hard to share
Intangible, perched on the edge
it’s not exactly there

Portal of Sweet Mystery

Portal of Sweet Mystery

Enchant

Guide Me

Guide me Through

What I see

Yet don’t see,

Autumn Spires

Shadows of Mist through Tall Autumn Spires,
Sinking Colours in Warm, Sallow Fires,

The simple things

 

We’ve been here before
but the effect is the same
In this place we come back to
again and again
A long tunnel of trees
with sunlight ahead
And the fragrance of forest
in the paths we have led

An Endless Story

Restless, like a wandering sprite

On a journey once found in a dream

Searching for an endless mysterious sight

Cast through the sky like a stream

Blurred fields

 

There are no hills out there
Quickening, as light fades
the green speeds by

Yellow, a far horizon glows
‘neath a darkening strip
with smoke drifting

Fog

You’ve taken my innocence and trust away

Your cold hands cover everywhere

The mist you bring under your veil

Is spreading all around

Hollowed

I held mystery closer and

Let if fall over every story

I knew about the world and who I was –

And I

Made my way back

Into a stillness filled

With moving points of light

Mystery,

No one ever knows,

where every curiosity grows.

Kept and hidden,

where revealing was forbidden.

Snake and Ladder

again in Peter’s format!

Hopping moment to moment

Life unexpectedly turns

As a pair of dice

In our palm

Mystery

I am told I’m childlike,

almost a little too innocent,

that I only see the good,

even in those who don’t deserve them.

I am told I’m sentimental,