who is this in the mirror...

I see her
slowly waking from a long lazy stupor,
she sheds layer after layer
of drab woolen garments
opening herself to the fecund promise of September
casting off the last vestiges of solemn sobriety
expectation sun-light gold in her eyes, she steps
into lace and silks - colored freesia, marigold and sky blue
her eyes delight in the fertile vista that is Spring
She is me, I am her - coiled, eager.

~~~


This is not written to the Potluck theme this week. But, just maybe it might fit with a little imagination.
Happy Monday Potluck to all.  :))


Love,

Eaton

Haiku

blue eyes...
always asking why
childlike zest

~~

Have a great weekend everyone.  :))

Love,

Eaton

Haiku

petal scents...
leave lingering traces
memories

~~


Love,

Eaton

Haiku

rain
puddling at my feet
thoughts of you

love,

Eaton.

Fear is a strange thing ~ 55 FFF

under cover
of impending nightfall
colorful secrets hide

unspoken riddles roll around the tongue
the taste of tart fruit plucked too soon

and yet these confidences are
not lies nor are they betrayal
his and hers complicated insecurities
that lurk like lumbering elephants

the onus to keep the secrets safe
a burden of its own.


~~



Visit G-daddy at Mr.Knowitall for more 55's.


Love,

Eaton.

you've been gone too long...

sing again summer, of your brilliant mornings
damp with expectation,
your heat-dazed afternoons and breathless nights
when will you arrive, your extremes bursting upon us
burning cities and land alike,
exhausting us into replicas of limp rag-dolls

although we are burnt-out at your leaving
the fever is sadly missed in the barren
months before your return

you never stay long, perhaps it is our lassitude
you take pity on.


~~

Summer is on its way! :))


Love,

Eaton.