In and Around the Mulberry Bush

Why is it that we spend so much of our life thinking we understand happiness,
only to find out that happiness can be shattered during impulsive and rash moments?
Why is it that a sharp tongue and repressed feelings can weave a pattern of torn hearts and seething hatred?
Why is it that most of the time, we can't see the misshapen clock of misfortune,
for the wheels seem perfectly round and no matter what,
they keep spinning in pretty colors,
distractng us from the time wasted and lost on a life that we can't undo?
Why does the second hand keep the time moving foward
when sometimes we wish all would stop?
Why can't things work out in perfect synchronicity?
I am the eternal optimist, living in a pessimist's world,
and I feel my colors fading into the darkness that shrouds life's existence.
Paint my canvas with new colors
and show me a green sunrise and a sea of red and orange;
take me to a world of flying zebras and talking animals;
blindfold me and pull me into a world of dancing statues and still life.
Spin me around and let me go.
I want to wander aimlessly until I can dance no more.
I want to fall into the rabbit hole and come out the other side --
into a life undiscovered.

Within My Labyrinth Walls

when I am alone, I know you are here.
you make everything alright without a word, and with many words.
even when you haven't spoken, your breath still softens my fall.
the days are so long, and the nights even longer, and all of them I endure amidst a sea of open arms, people holding me tightly, yet feeling so alone in my quiet desolation.
life continues, my dreams prevail, yet I tiptoe through life avoiding the cracks and mud puddles.
why is it that I am filled with such rejuvenation on a day of grey clouds and sleeping sunshine?
why is it that I am told that I erase the clouds and fill the room with sunshine?
why do I want to cry when all I can do is smile?
why is life so cruel to play my heart against my mind and bring tucked away tears into cheeks filled with roses?
I want to curl up in a basket of flowers and float into the ocean of forgiveness and undeniable questions, laughing at the seals who tickle my toes.
calm the waves and let me ride them out and wait for me on the other side.
if you look across the horizon, you'll see me laughing with the stars and singing with the fish.
how happy I can be when life's treasures surround me.
I'm coming home.
promise me you'll always wait for me.

Depravity.

Why do thoughts engorge my mind and time lays still at the breath of my words?
I want to sleep but I am haunted by the beckoning of the yawning daylight.
One more moment, one more blink, one last gaze into the loneliness of a room void of life,
but full of memories before I can lay this dizzied maze in the tomb of my deadened society.
Can I shed my photographs, motion pictures, and commentaries for an hour of silence and slumber?
I plead with you to cover my eyes and shield the light
that I may rest and be revived with the awakening of tomorrow's light.

Alabaster Morning

The mischievous pixies of winter danced cleverly in and about the trees,
stopping to rest lightly atop the leaves,
landing upon the soil,
daring to cast their spell of this alabaster magic onto everything they
touched...
their laughter captured, by the winds,
drifted teasingly through the chimes outside my window...
I knew they had been dancing,
for I heard the music in my dreams.
Waking to the draft
flowing silently through my room,
I tucked myself beneath the covers, listening for the morning tune...
it didn't come...
Throwing back the covers I crawled through the maze of pillows atop my bed,
toward the window I wandered, hair falling loosely about my head;
curiosity killed the cat they say, but without the pursuit of inquisition,
wherein lies new discovered disposition!
Taking up the window coverings, a vision of ivory iridescence settles
before my eyes.
The magic still encircling the window, still dashing about the skies
and resting confidently on everything below.
I place my hand against the glass.
Cold and frosted...
smiling, I hurry to dress and to know the taste of winter,
this day so long desired...
The coffee brews...
Layers piling on to keep me from the cold, hair pulled back,
fastened at the nape of my neck...
mustn't forget the boots!
...and a scarf...and gloves...and a coat...and the coffee!
The door handle is frightfully cold.
The frostbitten soil, shivering helplessly beneath my feet,
chattering each time I take a step,
crying for the sun to melt away this spell;
I can't help but smile.
I dote upon this frozen world, I revel in it's bleakness,
this canvas knows no color and it is mine to paint with the strokes I see
fit.
My breath, like a cloud of whimsy, swirls about the air in fluid motion,
entangling circles of quiet comfort with the efforts rising from my
demitasse, as I sip carefully my heated potion.
The day is mine.
Winter has enveloped the earth;
the season is alive at last.
A kiss!
Another!
Falling like tears they stumble upon my cheek,
tiny jewels of snow, grazing my lashes, and taunting my lips,
sending me into the afternoon with the kisses of winter.

Anam Cara

I could ask for the moon and be disappointed with her brilliance.
I could reach for the sun, and find it too inconstant upon which I could rely.
I might dabble amongst the stars and come away feeling lonely at their insincerity;
but never in my life have I ever found anyone like you, with whom I hope to always share everything.
I love you more than the moon loves her blanketed evening sky.
I love you more than the sun loves his summer days.
I love you more than the stars love the children who wish upon them,
for never have I found anyone who fills my soul as you.

Words

There's nothing that I can use more to express myself,
than words...
even dancing is the dialogue of my soul.
Each step, each sweep of the arms
is a phrase of my heart.

Treacle Well

Peter Pan ain't got nothin' on me;
From the land of sandcastles and ponytails,
Ribbons and dragons' scales-
We ride the dreams of fairies' wings and tapered strings,
Night lights and fireflies, the constellations in our eyes,
And scattered remnants of berry pie as nightmares crease the folds of time.
Follow the Rabbit, tumble down,
Tumble down the Treacle Well
Let imagination fill your sails,
As you tumble through the Treacle Well.

Sipping lemonade in the tire swing,
Pink petticoats and flights on a unicorn
It's a time of laughs, not knowing scorn.
Imaginary elves and a Yellow Brick Road, can your Ruby Slippers take you home?
Hold tight your Rabbit, tumble down,
Through the Treacle Well, tumble down,
Tumble down the Treacle Well,
Uncover treasure wher'er you fell.

Sir Lancelot came to rescue me,
He thought my fancies lay elsewhere.
(Not swimming with the Mermaids faire, or drinking tea in Tumnus' Lair.)
Could it be a vision gone, with castles disappearing on?
Can you see your Rabbit here, go round?
Through the Treacle Well, tumbling down,
Tumble down the Treacle Well,
Don't let loose the magic from the spell.

I listen still to the mirrors thoughts,
And travel by way of Pirates ships,
And down beanstalk ropes, by moonlight's tricks.
Though a hundred years, in a tower I slept,
and my glass slippers on my feet I've kept,
I'll fall through the looking glass.
Into the wardrobe I'll stray,
I've kept time with the Rabbit, and here I'll stay.

So take my hand and tumble down,
Through the Treacle Well, we'll tumble down,
To those who stay behind "farewell",
I still love tumbling through the Treacle Well.

In the Park

Swings of merriment,
See-saw of tribulation,
Sandbox of laughter,
Fort of hidden secrets,
Monkey bars of questions,
Slides of answers...
Where do we venture when we play?