Maiden in White

She seemed to float
in flowing gown of white
through the gardens
in the misty morning light.

With gentle hands,
her fingers brushed,
skimmed over the blossoms
with celestial touch;

the blooms self-muted their hues
as if infused with her purity
until all the world resembled heaven
for a moment but affording
a glimpse of eternity,

and as she departed,
long, fair hair slow-dancing
into the horizon,
the flowers returned
to their former colors
and the breeze dissipated.

No witness but I.
No photograph taken.
The maiden in white,
in my mind’s eye,
eternally painted.

I wish I had noticed at the time
the one single rose who refused to revert;
I could have at least penned a poem
to gift the hope to others.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Ladies in White

Pinks, reds, yellows, purples…
take me to where the ivory unfurls

petals reminiscent of celestial wings,
angel-whispers of the purest things,

stories of strength derived from faith,
and tales of troubles confronted with grace.

Bold colors burst forth in the celebration of spring,
but I find myself frozen, soul keenly listening

to the ladies in white, swaying silently;
they draw me in, they speak of peace,

they still my center, and the serenity seeps
through my pores and seeds in me.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Debut

It’s that time of year!

Southern magnolia trees are in bloom!

Oh, how my heart leaps up

when the grand floral

make their debut!

Such magnificent, prodigious petals

in the color of purity

fill my soul with a sense

of excited glee,

an unexplained happiness

that hatches in me

from long-lost identity

each time we meet.

Like the moon and the sea,

the clouds and trees,

this flower is somehow

connected to me.

I wish its gift were not so fleeting,

but if I didn’t have the anticipation,

I might not fully appreciate

the blessing

of another season.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Tree of White

My personality is a thousand bright, vibrant colors,

yet I am drawn to the white,

such petal purity quiets me,

embodies the beauty of life,

of souls,

condensed into a power source so soft,

it entrances me so that I may hear

the universe’s secrets and angel song,

and when the sun so celestially infuses it,

all doubt-shadows disperse, leaving me with

only the goodness, the best of all of this,

especially the mysteries and yet-to-comes,

and at the core of it,

pure love.

Spare me the colorful cut flowers; 
take me to a tree of white 
and let me stay for hours...

Poem and images ©LauraDenise