Poet. Writer. Photographer.
When the world is silhouette
in the darkness of new day,
and The Maker begins to add
the first colors of paint,
beginning with the sky
and blending into the sea,
as each ripple begins rippling
and the seabirds spread their wings,
my heart awaits the bristles
upon the lonely shore,
always hoping He’ll add wings
so my love can finally soar.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
When drowning in the desert,
I make my own oasis
to anchor my hope upon
’til tame becomes the tempest.
I know the weather patterns,
just not when the wells will dry,
but when they do, I’ll resurrect my heart
from its protected burial site.
Poem and (this morning’s) images (while walking into work) ©LauraDenise 🙂
Pictureless again
(removed from the album)
but not for long,
as my steps again
lose their wobble,
back to the cobblestone
toward where I belong,
away from this time
and into nature,
nearing the lit cottage
I will soon
remember.
The thing about self-love
is the condition
that it be
unconditional.
I must be a friend
to myself
when I need
one the most
and remember
what makes me, me,
are not flaws,
and in the handling
of my wounds
after stumbling
must come
the greatest care
of all.
Pieces we can’t get back
and permanent scars
must simply become
part of the beauty
of the sculpture
of the heart.
Carry me to our private
bed of white and light,
lay me down into
the escape portal
from the world;
my soul, revive.
Take me to where
the stars are floral,
where we’ll rearrange
the constellations
to suit our tomorrows.
My love, let me feel
your flesh press
into mine;
cover me with your love,
take me away
into your eyes.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
When my childlike giggles
and our mutual dimples
subside, let our eyes
shift and open the portals
to offer upon ethereal wings
the lift or dive
beyond this world…
Touch me then
with your unspoken,
with that lingering
forever-teetering
in how to express
the flooding emotions,
then let them pour out
and crash into mine,
meeting halfway
as a galactic tide,
then touch me slowly,
touch me tender,
in breaths without whispers,
touch me for a thousand
forevers.
Touch me like a butterfly
to nectar,
touch me like the petals
of two reaching
flowers
at the moment
they finally brush;
touch me as if it were a sin
to rush.
Touch me
without ever looking
from my eyes;
touch me then
with only
your light….
Poem, image, and audio ©LauraDenise
What if
I repelled the shame
of all the ways
my overly-passionate heart
led me supposedly
astray?
And what if
all of the astrays revisited
ended
up being
my most-treasured
blessings,
brothers, friends?
And what if
this heart of mine
were not in fact
a curse
but one of the greatest
gifts bestowed
upon this earth
to wield not
a shield welded
from past pains
but to let loose
in full potential
this love
like saving
rain?
Rain drop clings…
no, loosens
its grip
on purpose
on the precipice
of letting go
in full faith
of what lies ahead,
intentional free fall
into a freedom
this heart
will indeed
know…
no photo taken,
but some moment-drips
live eternally
within…
Let’s do this.
Into the inkwell,
to write the next chapter,
I dip my nakedness and
begin…
sometimes a heart
simply wants more
than any other heart
can give
sometimes a dream
no matter the nurturing
must wilt
despite its will
to live
i think i may have
such a heart
and dream
does it make me flawed
or Gypsy-Heart Queen?
~L.D.
One by one,
I pluck the thorns
barbed-wiring my heart in;
obstacle after obstacle
I surmount to prove
that love
will win.
Naturally, the plucks
unclog also the ducts
that keep the dammed rain
bayed,
but that doesn’t mean
the salt will wilt
the bloom who’s too far
on its way….
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Laura Denise 