Duy Huynh ~ Charlotte, NC

                                                      http://www.duyhuynh.com

I am made of words
Small
Important
Sustaining words
Gentle
Nurturing
Growing words
Repeated and related
In stories of another’s thoughts and
Wrought from other worlds
And longer words that catch in throats
And echo in a voice long since
Remiss with words spelled out
And wrong to some
And held from the deserving one
Whispered prayers of words
Flit off the tongue
And gather into clouds of verbs
They rain
They run
They stumble over unsaid words
The ones that wouldn’t come




Sara Mathews     April 2016

Duy Huynh  (used with permission)  http://www.duyhuynh.com

 Duy Huynh ~ Charlotte, NC 

                                                              http://www.duyhuynh.com

I dreamt a most
Disheveled dream
Of tangled thought
A strangled stream
Of image wrought
Too muddled for a theme
And so I gladly woke myself
To muster something
Of a guess
To what it all could mean
I stayed up to the
Wee hours of the night
Unraveling
And making sense of it
I sorted and deciphered
Filing elements
Precisely where they
Seemed to fit
By alphabet
And name
And as I happily admired
My interpretive success
I realized sadly
It was just
Another dream




Sara Mathews     April 2016


Duy Huynh ~ Charlotte, NC (used with permission)

                                                       http://www.lindawellsart.com

It was just another day
The sun shone gray
The skies cried blue
Doves cooed sadness
Softly
A solitary two
Mourning morning’s
Departing
Nothing new
The grasses greened
In silence
As always
The birds preened
Leaned from nests
Sang true
The flowers blushed
Their pastel best
The breezes caught
A solemn breath
And everywhere
The heart of you
And everywhere
The soul of you
In echoes of
Adieu
Adieu
I wished
And wished
For just another day




Sara Mathews     April 2016

'Mourning Doves' by Linda Wells
(used with permission)
http://www.lindawellsart.com

David Latham

The morning mists are lingering
A somber wardrobe worn
The shrouds and veils
Of last night’s storms
Are draped among the trees
And thrown upon the day
Like garments
Of an evening late
A thoughtless soul
In careless haste
Forgot to put away




Sara Mathews     April 2016

The morning does not call me forth
It’s damp and cold and wrong
The birds are up
But sing
Just bits and pieces
Of reluctant song
And flowers droop their pretty heads
And wonder what has kept the sun
So long




Sara Mathews     April 2016

The morning tastes
Like lemon
On my tongue
The breezes blow
In silks aquamarine
The trees are speaking
Raven sparrow wren
The ground is bursting
Secrets through the green
The clouds throw down
A scarf of woven shade
A glade of bluets
Brings bouquet of snow
And I am simply here
With gratitude
The sun feels me
And likes the way I beam




Sara Mathews  (For Wendy)    April 2016

The tulips wait 

Though darkness comes

And beats me to my door

They wait

And glow like little moons

To welcome me

They cannot rest 

Until they know I’m

Through the picket gate

The night descends

I turn the key

I’m in

The tulips wait again

They listen for my foot

Upon the stair

They shine below my window pane

And wait to hear my prayers

And only when I’m in my bed

And lashes fall

They nod their knowing heads

And whisper 

Goodnight all

Sara Mathews     April 2016

The birds rehearse
With brio
An hallelujah singing
Spring
Blue sky and
Whole note yellow sun
And shoots of green
Like newborns come
And red bud
Bells
On maples ring




Sara Mathews     April 2016

There is no doubt
About your mood today
You got up early
Made your bed
And rose
To wake us all
With noon time watts
At six a.m.
We tried to get another
Hour of rest
But you drew me from my bed
And emptied every nest
The birds are singing choruses
Of praise to your aplomb
And daffodils of sunshine
Are glowing on the lawn
And brushed along each
Branch and bough
Are golden highlights
Of your smile

Sara Mathews     April 2016

                                                        Www.mnartists.org/jeannelong
                                                  http://inafreshfoursquare.blogspot.com


You should write a poem
About that bird
That landed on your knee
As you sat in quiet meditation
Of the day
So calm and so at peace
You were a natural place
A friendly perch
On which a little bird
Could come to pause
And catch his breath
And share a moment
Of communion
Can it be just strange
Coincidence
It was a bluebird
Your favorite
That came to rest
A beat with you
Or did he bring a message
In his fluttering chest
From loving guardians
To let you know
That all is well
And shall be
A reassuring mission
From above

Sara Mathews     April 2016

'Bluebird' by Jeanne Long  (used with permission)

Duy Huynh

                                                   http://www.duyhuynh.com


There is no death
I whisper
No death
I whisper louder
I weave a mantra
And I wear it on my sleeve
I share it with the breeze
That guards my shoulder
We say it stronger
Bolder
There is no death
We chase the birds with words
They take our message
On their wing
To other worlds




Sara Mathews     April 2016

Duy Huynh   Charlotte, NC  (used with permission)

Grey hope
Lopes down the street
Gathering tears from
Newborn green
Blurring eyes
Horizon lines
Grey hope
Admires his misty cloak
Thrown over scarlet bud
And smudges morning birds
On wire
Soft pedaling their song
The muffled joy
Is what he loves
The tulip jeweled




Sara Mathews     April 2016



Photograph by Robin Frazier

I hear a faint chirp
The sun is pale
A halfhearted kind of start
Peers through the curtain
Unsure of me perhaps
Awaiting my good morning
A light mist lays it’s heart
On tender wisp of green
And springtime flowers
Anxious to be seen
An April shower holds back
Indecisively
Around the corner
Of the hour
And I
Place one tentative foot
Upon the day




Sara Mathews     April 2016

I spent the day in blues
And grey
It seemed in-keeping with the weather
After all
The coolness made the tulip petals fall
The sky was cloaked in overcoat
A leaden overcast ganache
And birds smudged by in charcoal stroke
And disappeared in puffs
Of smoke
As clouds wheeled past
And branches scratched
A steely match
On tinder box of indigo
And nothing shone
Like opal
And nothing sparked
Like gold
But all was just an ordinary way
So in the nature of the garments of the day
I followed through
In solemn hue
Of blues
And grey                                




Sara Mathews     April 2016

I’m listening
I’m waiting
I hold my breath
I breathe deep
A tear is glistening
I watch for you in sleep
I hold my breath
I breathe deep
I look for signs
I say your name
I speak to you
I stake a claim
The places that I saw you last
Are sacred now
I stand outside your door
And whisper
How?
I hold my breath
I breathe deep
I wait
I listen
I weep




Sara Mathews     April 2016

I waken to the day
With such anticipation
I greet the morning sun
And sing
Hello Miss April
Welcome spring
But in a blink
Her eyes
Of soft warm blue
That called me forth
Have turned to steely grey
And here I am
Again
Caught
Barefoot
And foolish




Sara Mathews     April 2016

This is how it starts
A low cloud rolls in
Then the rumble of something
Far off
A rattle of restlessness
The shake up of contentment
This is how it goes
The wind blows bits
Of what ifs
An accomplice
Scattering seeds
Only because he has nothing
Better to do
No malice
Just drifting too




Sara Mathews     April 2016