NaPoWriMo #7/30 - Friday Morning Rain

Friday Morning Rain

by Ieisha McIntyre

Rain falls gently to pavement.
Pad-taps out the rhythm of the day,
slips soft-silent through the cracks in the soil
and rises puddle.
Waits glass patient for my shoe.


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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

NaPoWriMo #6/30 - The Miracle of Sleep

The Miracle of Sleep

by Ieisha McIntyre

Falling away into darkness
--my eyes are closed
as windows with drawn curtains.

My mind--set free and active,
goes to play upon the landscape of forever.

Finding bits of reality--
here and there strewn over
every geographical point of the unseen.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

NaPoWriMo #5/30-Mr.

Mr. 

by Ieisha McIntyre

I wish I could tell you how many times
I looked at you and your forever before
I decided that it could
not be my ever after.

But, there were too many times to count,
and too many days have gone by to remember exactly
what it was that made tomorrow with
you put a bad taste in my today.

I wish I could tell you, but I can’t.

And, you’re over it.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

NaPoWriMo #4/30-Soul Tending

Soul Tending 

by Ieisha McIntyre

There are Gardens inside each soul--
where the spirit speaks to the creator.
Gardens lined with lush trees,
trees with branches that hang sleepy and watchful over fresh grown lilies.

There are gardens in our souls,
that carry the full scent and memory of love.
Love that has taken up care and pulled out tender weeds,
deep rooted weeds, pulled effortless with even the gentlest of breezes--love.

Plush moss of verdant green couch the ground
--make soft the harshest of places.
In our souls, there are sweet soft places, yearning for care, and tending. Safe sheltering places, where fruit rests heavy and fresh in the palm.

Fruit pulp-full and juicy sustenance. Peel back the rind and sink in your teeth.
Taste the sweetness of tended places.
Let the juice slide onto your tongue and creep toward the throat of you--nourish.
Let it squeeze free of your lips. Slide down your chin--feed.

Feed on this fertile love, make yourself ready to reap harvest.
Make yourself ready to offer free entry to those
in need of the peace--
the garden.

All Rights Reserved (c) 2010




This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.