That lavender time again II

It’s really quite strange
but this time last year
I picked all my lavender
and posted right here
On this very same day
In the mid-July sun
when the first set of flowers
were ready and done

Burrow

If I had a burrow

I would crawl into it

Make a bed of soft moss

When the sun comes up

Against a rinsed blue sky

the sun comes up entirely gold

no pink or purple streaks of dye

a new dawn painted on a canvas bold.

Vows

Vows

-Linda Lee Lyberg

Promise

Your love to me

You Give Me Mornings

you give my soul a break
from its internal fights
and you give me mornings
in between my nights

you draw me to your sun
after years of living in cold
and you whisper love to my ears
words I’ve never been told

Alchemy

Skimilvee this, and jorating us that
around the sculpting parapet.

The Guava Tree

Behind our house used to be a guava tree,

Where my brother and I often sat for free.

Leaning against its cool creamish trunk,

Many happy returns II

Many happy returns
lives up to its name
With ever more roses
again and again

Villanelle of Christ

Great Redeemer is His name
Walked on earth so long ago
Age to age He’s still the same

Known Place’s

I can find a

place, that isn’t here

but is somewhere.

Poem for the Moment…in Time (form poetry)

There’s always

a little right with wrong. There’s always

a little sadness with song. Joy and pain pattern

HAIKU: OFF BEATEN PATHWAYS

By Charles Robert Lindholm

 

I cannot wander

too far off beaten pathways

Betrayal

Below the city’s cobblestones,

it shifted, restless and hungry

Its assault knew no bounds

Visible

Silent now, this moment’s pause, bathed in ochre’s tinge of red,
revealing histories’ flaxen stitch, stretched through pin pricks long since bled.
Day lies still around me, ‘cross rustic echoes this past enfolds,
suspends my eye along the line where every memory’s story is told.

Attraction

Attraction

-Linda Lee Lyberg

Pulled apart forever

By a single foolish act

And now she must endeavor

To accept the brutal fact

Lilac Lovliness

They grow in abundance
by the railway bridge line
And their fragrance in summer
is completely divine
Their heady perfume
just intoxicates me
So I took this quick picture
for you all to see

My Dearest

My Dearest,
Truly your face is continually before me.
In my dreams I see you,
In my waking moments I think of you,

Hiking Down The Walk of Life

This poem was posted in my blog about a week back.  It was written based on my thoughts during a hike by the side of a creek, finding similarities and difference between hiking a known trail and journey through life.  Few lines are updated from the original post. 

Melancholy cooing of a lonely dove
Woke me up from my brief reverie
Senses lulled by gentle soothing sound
Of the gurgling merry stream
Hiking by the side of the creek

HAIKU: MYSTERY OF LIFE

 

By Charles Robert Lindholm

 

Mystery of life

Distraction

I was on my way to my studio

When dust bunnies began biting my ankles

Mold in the bathroom started to whine

Break the Silence.

Look around to
see how the world 
engages to 
hold on to you…

From the blazing sun
to the midnight moon,
across the dusty wind,
through the calmer you…

Enmity and Amity (Diamante)

Enmity

Timorous, rebellious,

Resenting, doubting, guarding,

Songs in Sand

And still the waves
slip ashore,
singing their
conspiratorial whispers
between grains of sand.
The wind slides in
from the deep,
empty places,
haunted and lonely,
cold and clean
like a wet finger around

I Sit

I Sit

-Linda Lee Lyberg

I sit

In the quiet

Waiting for the day’s end

Watching the shadows move and race

Our Earth is Slipping

Earth is slipping,

And we are sleeping.

Plains are flooded,

The forest is gutted.

Nature’s thrash-metal show

A clue when the sun
hides away from the day
and the mugginess grows
as the sky becomes grey
Then, as evening approaches
a splatter of rain
It looks like a storm
is brewing again

A rumble of thunder
as the night-time comes round
But in the gaps and the stillness
there’s barely a sound

Poison Ivy

—Don’t
—Don’t scratch!
It’ll spread. —No, it won’t.

DOING NOTHING IS A CHOICE

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

 

doing nothing’s still a choice

so choose you must

and choose you will