Together
A Fleur Being, Notes by a Painter
the wind brought paint. the sky her water. a paintbrush on hand. the flowers from under, all the trees in full delight. rustling their leaves. in movements so bright. then forward she ventures. along with her muse. her footsteps are patterns. of which she does choose. to dance this young painter. in water awash. she becomes a fleur being. a flower to touch. her muse is in wonder. from this moment he sees. a beautiful flowering portrait to seize. ahhh, is his voice and soft in his manner. her paintbrush now his, they dance with together. under mounds of deep leaves. the light awaits time. the leaves as a blanket. and sunshine as rhyme. Copyright S. Kamber
Other
Imaginary Flowers, Imaginary Spring
Seeds grew up on me as I slept. Visible dreams someone placed there. I thought them flowers or formations intended to open my eyes when I awake. Red flowers bringing green wafts of fragrance from a far off hillside near a pond. Inside that water lives a pool of bright light. There you are, water smiles at this wondrous sight. Lilac bush and winter branches. Curls of flowers, so enhances. How did you get there from whence the cold? A welcome reflection, a soft breeze does hold. To walk and imagine the mixing of spring, with cold winter moments that happened to bring. The light and the water a mixture that day, producing the colors in just the right way. The springtime seems present, though blooms yet to come. I wander the pathways of winter and hum. Of springtime romance, reflections in water, the warmth from this glance, holds my heart here in wonder. Copyright S. Kamber
2023
Other
Together
There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro' the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep." BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
Other
