Poetry, stumbling toward ecstasy

it’s not that simple

rebecca’s stumblin toward ecstasy
photo: red_04, Zita B, flickr


standing still suggests
his heart quakes a quiver
attempting to capture one
slippery scent of security

slightly retrospect
he turns and smiles
a warm touch remote
signals the lock of his heart

walking towards a
world a way
closer yet he comes
his soft blue shirt shimmers

just as before
not hardly a change
he now walks
soothingly slower

he bends his frame
encompasses my life
we start all over again

haiku my heart, Poetry

the new of old

rebecca’s friday prompt recuerda mi corazon [haiku my heart]
photo: comet in the dark sky, lou 69, flickr

touched by a tender tendril of toughness
you rub the raw from my heart
we gather old cobwebs and
make silk socks of togetherness

sometimes in the uncertain
you bring me back
where no one likes to step
you hook your arm around
my waist, and with
steady heart you sooth and rock
you provoke me landward



Doc Gooden

feeling the ball
his palm grasp
the knowledge
of spin

specks of decision
fell like a steady rain
eyeing his catcher
they spoke a
silent language

his youthful heart
jumped a pattern
of nervous beats
before imparting
a restful note

readying his stance
his two fingers played
the part so familar

focused with determination
the curve ball breezed
past the determined batter
with a strike

SundayScribblings No 113 topic: curves; photo: baseball cards, photobucket; more info on doc aka dwight gooden and doc today


The Tide

3WW prompt: curious, eventually, shower


making it right is everything
tides of time hold little regard
to events written in memories

eventually the forgetful heart recovers
curiously open and full of possibilities
showering little promises at every turn