Wet gray horse comes
driving down the rain,
cool- -cleansing.
Thick mist swirls- -curls
through the woods
in its wake.
The unsettling
of seasons drifting
shakes my soul- –
somehow
it comforts me though.
Odd- -a storm soothing me
with its hoof beats pounding- –
resounding a drum roll
and mantra
so utterly free flowing.
Vibrations of sound
a profound statement
tattooed to my heart.- –
symbols crashing,
lightning flashing,
rain drops splashing
against the panes.
Waves- -carried by wind
in a gray horses mane.
I hesitate- -breathing
may change the horses gate.
I long to lasso it,
ride it bareback- –
break-neck wild and mean,
I mean I would love
to ride the wind
in a wet gray horse storm.
Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.
It is not the rain
of summers past
that wash away long nights
but the memories
The dreams condensed
inside each crystal drop
and the realization- –
the thunder is even lonelier
that floods the soul
with waves of comfort
and shortens the night
with a song- -softly.
Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.
When Reading my poetry, the "- -" is a pause longer than a comma and shorter than a sigh.
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All poetry and photographs on Cerulian Moon is the sole work of Suzie Ashby. Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby. If I use quotes from anyone else or photographs, I will give full credit to the right parties.
It is about Love, Nature, and Unconditional Love.
Beam Me Up, Scotty!
Cerulean Moon 