Friday, June 23, 2017

                                                                   Brenda Wilbert

The possibilities of the day
Are many
It seems a bit too bright for gloom
Too grey for celebration
A little too soon
To slip into a mood
Or choose a face
I talk to the flowers
They know weather
We go round and round
About the chilly Spring
Too cold for tulips
They admit
Too wet for the giddy lilac
But hope explodes in the pink azalea
And the climbing rose
And now the sun sallies in
Without excuse
Just as we thought
We whisper
And the poppies regroup
As we greedily fill our lungs
With gold

Sara Mathews     June 2017

Artwork by Brenda Wilbert (used with permission)

Sunday, June 18, 2017

The sky is lowering the boom
That is the expression
My father used
When we told him
I understand it now
The feeling of it all
Coming down around
A final curtain call
A premonition of a
Last goodbye
And yet
I see a comfort
In the envelope of fog
Like a favorite blanket
Come to wrap itself
Around your shoulders
With familiar touch
Enfolding you
With warm
So you are not alone
What made me think of this
Looking out the window
At the rain admonished rose
The wrap of mist
The lowering sky
I look up to the heavens
And smile
Because I know
They hold you close

Sara Mathews     June 2017

Saturday, June 10, 2017

The full moon
Knows my missing
My sadness
My indecision
My halting step as I pass your door
Wanting to stop
Not wanting to bother
Is it for me or you
That I long to console
The full moon gives me confidence
Like wine
I am full of myself
And my good intent
But I can’t hold my feet from moving past
As many nights I’ve tried
So my heart lingers round
Your little house
Pressing at the pane with sympathy
And only the moon knows
Full truth
But he is my moon
And forever takes my part
As I miss too deeply
The love of your life

Sara Mathews     June 2017

Friday, June 9, 2017

                                                          Cardinals by Lois Armstrong

Cardinals round my windows fly
Like a snow globe of red feathers
I am happily caught within
They circle my room
Where I’ve made my escape
From horrific things

It’s too privileged
My daughter says
To choose oblivion
To be protected
By only good
And beautiful birds

Sara Mathews     June 2017
Artwork by Lois Armstrong  (used with permission)