" the milk of human kindness"

#7SyllableSentence

if i close my eyes
to feel the blue gold of sky
a small bird singing

#haiku

you were there, in the trees
before the hand of the mountain
closed into a fist as hard as rock
you were there, while drops
of white rain twinkled in the wind
afternoon picked up her skirt
and splashes fell to the ground
you ran alongside my strides
a warm glow in the gathering haze

if you stand next to me
you will hear the sound of rain
weeping in its darkness

if you hold me to your heart
you will hear clocks whisper
in the black slate of night

if you call my name, i will come
and dreams will fall from my mouth
like songs woven with stars

we, a sunrise smile
before the first rain
your heart in my heart

i woke, with a dream
before we became the day
just to hold you near

i open blue eyes
you and your faraway arms
silver sky trembles

in these hands of evening
tall shadows weep sad songs
darkness is the moon’s wife
filling the heavens with night
delphinium blue, eyes of stars

my sky is every shade of you
i search in the deep of dark
places on the surface of time
in whispers, moments of silence
you are the voice of the wind

i see the shape
of spring creeping
over the mountain

as shadows dance
beyond the sun
you touch me like sky

stillness, a moment
larger than silence
wind, a sudden friend

when sky is falling
sorrow walks the streets 
spreading like blood 
into fingertips of wind…
my crying words falter
silence becomes my voice
trees bend low, shadows
paint the blue black of night

if you stand next to me
you will hear the sound of rain
weeping in its darkness

if you hold me to your heart
you will hear clocks whisper
in the black slate of night

if you call my name, i will come
and dreams will fall from my mouth
like songs woven with stars

with every breath
i give the moonlight
you come to me
and dust the shadows
of my heart with
fingertips and song

her soul is made of blue stars
her song is in the cold wind
in the fold of forest, where
alphabets of stars gleam
in the thorn of night

i want to sing to you…
as trees stroke the quiet
and wind whispers its secrets
in blue shadows and soft songs

i want to sing to you…
as night remembers the distance
between silence and the silver
light of morning on river ice

she loves in this house
poems are born here
curled into corners
painted with song

a warm golden place
sheltered by pines
where sun melts
into the walls…and stays

winter night snow fall
sky clean with cold
her warmth a gift
under the eyes of stars

beautiful in silence
he is every colour
of north wind and fire

he carries storms
under his skin, and
she loves him wildly
as a fox does the moon

alone in a wilderness of words
unbuttoning thought from
the unknown language
of a winter bird’s chatter

morning unfolds... blue white
swallowed in soft shadow
a breath of time, a sigh

tears collect in a crying wind
morning stillness…transparent
the gently falling snow

love is the voice
under all silences,
the hope which has
no opposite in fear;
the strength so strong
mere force is feebleness;
the truth more first than sun,
more last than star… ~e.e. cummings

i recognise your words
i have touched them
as if my hands
once held them
i recognise the clay
of their forming

i look for you
without looking
i sing your name
with each trembling
note of the night
you rest in my soul

if i close my eyes
to feel the blue gold of sky
a small bird singing
winter morning melody
a gentle smile on the wind

wide open sky unfolds
its wings…a smile gleams
without shadows falling

i hold your heart, each beat
a song , an intimate flame
painting the night ablaze

i breathe in midnight 
winter shivers thru the trees
in moonlight shadows

sentient, the forest waits
ebony in deepest shadow
a quicksilver sky, a shimmer
noetic night…infinity of stars

like the blue man
in the chagall
just hold me

a yellow moon
trees of flowers

we hover
in jewelled colours
as if angels

sunlight and shadow
a whisper, warm on my neck
the taste of your smile
to be loved like a song and
held in the arms of the wind

breath of wind, cloud of white
draped in moonlight
darkness, a chill at my back
i sing to the silence
the silver soundlessness
of snow falling on snow

she sings to the night
string and cedar
warm her heart

wind softening
its howl to the echo
of a whisper

her spirit gathers
kindling and minutes
fall like stars

in silent white snow
curled like a nutshell
this shelter among trees...

air tasting of cold, woodfire
sun rose, white, moonlike

in a flame too hot to hold colour
it bled the sky red orange...
bold brushstrokes, to paint the dawn

the sky hung low
bruised clouds
against the tips of pines
she stirred dreams
into her tea with honey
sang her blue words
dancing, long skirts trailing
and the wind wept all her tears

you are
the song
of my soul...
be here with me
by the moon deep sea
and all the shining stars

cold blue air
and the silver sound
the river makes
when she cries
his hand…warm as a star

there were deer
silent in the trees…
she watched the moon
rest in their eyes, golden
the sky…like glitter dust
clean washed with cold
on her lips…a taste of snow

she watches heaven
drift across the sleeping fields…
trees in haloed light
as the minutes fall like stars