Spending Time

 

humid- -sleepless
giant moon
on cottonwood
leaves flicker- –
crickets chirrup

entwined
on mossy banks
we sip kisses
purple flowers nod- –
acquiescent

lazy river drifts
stars shift
chasing moon
time grows weary
reaching
for our hearts- –
                             too busy
                             spending time

 
Photograph Courtesy of pd.photo.org.
Copyright 2013, by Suzie Ashby.

 

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Time We Spend

Enigmas- -the moon and you
lying here next to me
stargazing
in one another- -new ground
covered in an hour
feels like making love- -just
passing the time- -away
from those red satin sheets
trailed serpentine
across the floor- –
door standing open,
spell binding- -binding us
never minding the world
as a whole
only the time we spend
absorbing the stars

Copyright 2011, by Suzie Ashby.

Memories

Shadow play- –
you eclipse my heart
standing silently in the closet
male- -wanting- -waiting
how I loved you best
a closet bound phantom
stillness echoes out
where thoughts revolve- -swirling neon
and bloodstone- -thoughts
evolve into shoebox dreams,
dust laden momentoes
of years gone by.

Gone on by- –
polished driftwood carried
by time’s elusive current
flowing backward against my heart- –
now and then lapping gently
against the eroded banks
of memory, teasing me.- –
You always did make me smile,
even in the dark corners.

I don’t want
to dust off the past- –
I’ll do it for you though.
Being teased by shadows
is a hobby of mine.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

Celtic Warrior

Warrior looks in
through my eyes
– -child wanting candy.
Curiously,
peers inward
through a delicate green lace
perhaps seeking the place
my soul lingers- –
seeking his manifest destiny
or some quandary to debate.
Not seeing me for me
behind this face
– -still- -cold
braced and fevered
in this darkened place.

My castle walls
I embrace- -a blanket
of cerulean blue- -tattered.
– -Web like
gray fibers fray
along the edges,
from time’s time
with time folding backward
on itself.

Deep inside me he roams
empty chambers- -pulling
at flitting shadows
– -all the specters
                                 I am.
Oh, if he could set them free
they long for light
of dreams and fancy flight
– -silent butterflies.  Yet
– -still- -specters cling to me
lover’s whispers,
they sigh
and I sedate them
with a cerulean blue blanket
and the inward touch
of a Celtic Warrior’s hands.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

Come Softly

Come softly- –
hand in hand
into the night
when flowers rest
their blossoming faces
– -silently,
shadows become one with the cooling air- –
as will we
with the stars watching
over us.

Come softly with me
into the dawn,
when flowers awaken
to the frosted kiss of fall- –
knowing winter is inevitable.

Come softly
to my heart
where breath is but a faint sound
– -a gentle breeze
fluffing the down of a feather- –
where day and night mean nothing- –
Where time
is only a burden from yesterday,
and all todays
are what really matter.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

Daughter of The Mountain

She is held by the wind
and the smile from a brown eyed doe
in the arms of her father- –
                                               the mountain.

His arms of pine needle,
Spanish moss fingers
and granite grip
have embraced her through time- –
through uplift and erosion,
erthquakes, blizzards and floods.
The sixties were good years for those.

Together they have watched
storms,
the sunsets and rises
that molded the Front Range.
They know what moves mountains,
but so far
have not seen one who can.

She is- -just a mountain,
a likeness of her father,
a mass of Earth,
a watcher and a wilderness,
immovable- –
yet constantly moving.
She is a child of the Earth,
her father’s child- –
daughter of the mountain.

Dad, I love you.  I’ve missed you for nearly
thirty years now.  Happy Father’s Day.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

Where This Could Go

Your soul- -my refuge
we’ve weathered my chaos- –
a deluge of loss, gain loss.
Time- -only time nothing more.
We meld as one- -water colors           
free in the rain- -fluid, brilliant- –
stirring of hearts, stirring
in this mobius continuum- –
dusks, dawns, warm- -cold.
You always hold me,
a peach blossom in your hand- –
softly, sweetly
despite things I do.
Our gentle drifting in you
an eternal thing.
Your eyes- -the unending sky,
you- -the expanse of starts
cradling me- -tenderly.
Safe- -this massive refuge of you.
We know
where this could go- -love- –
getting there is the journey
two hearts take- -searching
for the calm.
we’ve settled
in this fluid painting- –
water colors in the rain- –
absorbing the dusks and dawns,
burning red on the horizon
of our stirring.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.