Magpie 53

Image courtesy Magpie Tales

Paternal grandfather,

Maternal grandmother,

Their crystalline salt shakers,

Have fallen to the ground.

Shattered into many pieces.

Their contents now fill my own,

While the shining fragments,

Have risen to smile upon me,

From the night-time sky.

My Delirium

Walk with me amongst these few written lines,

Tracing the cyclones twist into the realm,

Of the delirious and the divine.

Pay the boat man at his eternal helm,

For efficacious spiraling travel,

To the shore blessed with crooked lonely elms.

Within the forrest the path unravels,

Refuses guidance to the distrait man,

And offers meretricious road’s gravel.

Heed the hearts injunction, hold hope in hand,

Reticence is the falsely winding path,

Over, through, miasmatic, morass land.

Seek equanimity, dismissing wrath,

And alight from precipitous winged dreams,

To reality with a puerile laugh.

The realm of real twists, and spirals, and reams.

                                           K.M. Shear

                                           02-15-11

For my brother...

Submitted to Theme Thursday

Magpie #47

Image courtesy of Magpie Tales

This Heart

This heart beats no more.

Chambers emptied, severed,

From he who used it so well.

This blackened heart pumps no more.

Never again will it fuel the soul,

With hatred, venom, or fear.

Blackened, ugly heart revoked.

Removed, ready to be bagged,

Shelved; to eternally gather dust.

Useless, blackened, ugly heart,

Cast out and replaced by elation;

Beat no more.

K.M. Shear

01/04/11

Nature's Hope

Allowed to run free,

Bounding over grassy hill.

Complacently preparing,

Dedicated to survival.

Extending lean body through air,

Flying, for just an instant.

Grounded in purpose,

Hope is born in such things.