I
wait by
the pink river
for my heart to
return.
Category: Gracie’s Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much
Somewhere
You can find me
Somewhere
That time does not exist.
But it does
Even if I say no.
And grains of sand
I cannot hold
Stick to my weary feet.
Lost To Sleep
Sleep eats my hours
Devours my moments
I awaken to find
Years and years
Were sacrificed
Lost to sleep.
Lost in a fog
Of numbness
I hide myself
Inside each day
Veiled by darkness
I embrace each night.
Yellows, Reds and Golds
In the midst of my autumn
watching my colors turn
yellows, reds and golds.
When the last leaf dies
storms will throw their icy
weight upon this body old.
Snowflakes will drift and pile
the tree limbs will come down
when boughs fail to hold.
Gifted with four seasons and
it seemed a time so long,
yet quickly, my leaves turned gold.
I pray you remember me as autumn
dancing in the wind, swirling and
bursting with colors so vivid and bold.
Summer High
Summer lifted
me so high
light as a feather
till I touched the sky.
I knew I’d fall hard
after such a flight,
from such an oh so
magical height.
My Wolf
I have howled mournfully at the Wolf’s moon
knee deep in the snow of a frozen winter’s night.
Grieving the loss of my lover, the fantasy
of he and I tangled in white, cotton sheets
touching for the last time his rough face
happy, content, in love, just an illusion.
It’s complicated, he growled
as he changed into the Wolf and fled.
I have howled, screamed and cried
wept tears that froze on my cold cheeks.
I have walked across a barely frozen lake
stood at the edge of a rocky cliff
searching for my Wolf in the darkness.
Offering up the bloody remains
of my heart to tease his hunger.
Surely, he didn’t forget the taste
of me.
Inspired by The Wolf Moon By Charles Robert Lindholm, The Reluctant Poet
The Wolf Moon
Picture Credit: Pics Art
Where Are My Words?
Where are my words?
I haven’t heard a sound.
They sometimes
Pour from my fingers
Dripping all over
Flowery notepaper
Napkins and notebooks
Anything that makes a sound.
Then the words, the damn
Ugly, beautiful, painfully real
Words, they just go away.
Up to the sky like a balloon
Floating just out of reach.
My mind goes blank
My heart goes numb
My fingers heartless as steel.
The Summer Is Done
The sunflowers reach for the sun
they don’t know that the summer…
the summer is done.
Still bursting with tiny, green, closed buds
and the mother plant proudly presenting
the huge yellow sunflowers that I love.
It will only take one frosty night
and then my beautiful sunflowers
you will no longer be mine.
To the ground, to the ground
sunflower petals and seeds will fall
but I know…I know you will come back
shooting up in the spring, then
once more my sunflowers
you will be mine
until the first frost of fall.
Summer Dreams
It’s so sad when summer goes away.
I thought if my love was strong enough
Maybe this time she would stay.
So, I chased the sunshine
I kissed the sunflowers
I danced with honeybees
I nurtured wildflowers.
I ran with the butterflies
I played in the sunshine
For hours and hours and hours.
I grew daisies and vegetables
And embraced the sun showers.
I woke each morning and chased the day
Then followed the sun’s departure
As daylight slowly drifted away.
I loved this summer like it was my first,
my last and everything in-between
and when the snow covers my windows
I’ll close my eyes and I’ll dream…
I’ll dream of summer.
Whisper To Me
What would you whisper to me
If I were your very last wish?
Would you lay me to waste
Or would you make me count?
Lost In Love
Lost in love
what is my name
I am you
and you are me
we are the same.
Lost in love
no one is here
to answer the phone
the banging on the door
lost in love, lost in love
but love, love doesn’t
live here anymore.
A Dozen Old Sads
Have you ever noticed
when something triggers your sad
it seems to pull back the layers
of all the sads you buried
and a dozen old sads rise up in defiance
shouting out, What about me?
I’m still here. Look at me.
You buried me, you pushed me down,
but I’m still aching, what about me?
Shut up old sads.
You don’t belong here, not today.
I have enough to be sad about
in this present moment and
I don’t need a dozen selfish
old sads rising up in rebellion.
Go back to sleep old sads, hush.
You’ve already had your day.
My Kryptonite
I could give up cigarettes, coffee, sugar,
chocolate and probably even salt.
I could never let go of your memory
it’s locked securely in a hidden vault.
Yet, longings escape
like pink whispers
memories haunt me
old scars burn as
your caress lingers
lips tender on my skin
kissing the curve of my face
as you slow dance me
until you win my heart
just to walk away.
A fantasy fulfilled, too hot to hold
it dropped from my burnt fingers.
The way you made me feel, my kryptonite.
The dance ended, but the music lingers.
She’s Still Alive
I looked in the mirror this morning
and the woman who once loved you
looked back at me.
I thought she died.
I tried to kill her literally, emotionally
and in every way possible because
I don’t want love that hurts.
I looked in the mirror this morning
and the woman who once loved you
looked back at me.
She’s still alive.
Full Moon Rises
Soul wanders
through the darkness
searching for your light.
It floats blind and lost
searching behind
the stars each night.
Heat remembered
frustrates and
fuels the fire.
Full moon rises
sparking rebellion,
tears and desire.
I want! I want!
soul screams out
to the empty night.
Its over. It’s over.
Must be accepted
by each daylight.
Yes, I Do
I spent half my life making rules and asking people to follow them, disappointed when they didn’t.
I spent half my life cleaning when I could have played with my children, but, I didn’t.
I let time slip away, let people drift out of my life, moments I should have treasured but, I didn’t.
I let problems weigh me down, things that didn’t even matter the next day.
But, I thought they did.
Now, I treasure every moment, every hug, every butterfly and flower.
Yes, I do.
Sometimes, I’m a Flower
Sometimes, when I’m in my garden, I’m a flower.
I spread my petals to soak up the sun.
When I walk among the brilliant colors
I feel like a bird set free to soar.
Imagine…
Imagine a world
where the flowers are blue
the sky is Cinderella pink
and your heart is brand new.
Heart never been broken
never kicked to the ground
a home built on rainbows…
awesome flowers surround.
Tears are never shed and
willow trees do not weep
when you close your eyes…
your soul He does keep.
Imagine a world
minus cursing and screams
imagine a world
where kindness beats mean.
Rose colored angels
waltz through your dreams
while dainty butterflies dance
on clouds of whipped cream.
Imagine…
Words & Pictures: Jeanne Marie, 2014
What You Love
What you love the most can kill you as you hold it close.
Danger never made itself known as she buried her face in the lilacs,
inhaling the sweet, sugary scent of the velvety, purple blossoms.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the ambrosia as she gently held the delicate bunches in her hands, her favorite perfume filling her senses with pleasure.
Overwhelmed with passion, she didn’t feel the spider that crawled up her neck.
As it bit into the tender flesh under her windblown hair, she was so lost in the moment, lost in the lilacs, she didn’t even feel the deadly bite.
He injected his poisonous venom into her soft flesh as she caressed the lilacs.
What you love the most can kill you as you hold it close.
Colors
She hates colors that aren’t colors
colors that are shades of something
that used to be brilliant.
She learned to hide her colors gradually
through the years and as she let him
water her down with his words,
she gently faded into a no color version
a salamander who changed her colors to hide.
She let him turn her into a shade of something
that used to be brilliant.
One More Time, Again
Let’s not fight when the sun goes down and the shades are drawn.
Wouldn’t you rather call back the tender fury, the passion that we once wore?
Time was on our side and ever so trusting I gave me to you
only to be lost, a forlorn girl standing on the edge of nevermore.
Drew back the covers, flesh ablaze, unashamed, nothing to hide,
fell in love, lost my head, I was so sure.
Recreate the euphoria of that first night, devouring each other
between the worn cotton sheets on my antique bed.
Use your fingertips to chase away the years of struggling
the hurt and the anger that screams wild as savage beasts inside our heads.
Play make-believe, pretend that it’s yesterday
and the bitter deeds did not destroy the tenderness instead.
Pursue me like there’s no tomorrow because I can not see beyond today
then, when tomorrow comes…
I promise to set you free, stand on my own two feet, find my own way.
Hands could caress, bodies could recreate, satisfy this insane yearning
as you travel back with me, waltz me back through past’s gate.
Touch my soul once more with longing and desire, force the winds of change
to stand stationary while you re-ignite my skin’s desire.
What would I give to travel back and never have been betrayed?
I scarce remember when there were no walls
and I did not know how to be afraid.
Perhaps tonight you could help me to forget to remember if I promise that
I won’t run away when the dawn comes, I won’t run away. No…not yet.
We could try, one more time, again. What could we lose, what could we win?
Cradle me in your arms and recapture me with reckless hunger,
pretend thirty years have not transpired.
It would be so easy because fingertips have no memories and
they don’t know how to hate, they will pursue passion’s flagrant fire
unlike a broken heart which hesitates.
No movement forward from here so we could journey back to then
before the illusions were shattered and we could try, one more time, again.
One more time again, as if you read my mind.
Still, the heat that rises in my loins concedes to grief, collapses beneath regret
too wise to be enchanted, too stupid to forget.
Good-bye. No, wait…not yet. Maybe we could try…one more time, again.
Sunflower On The Road
Took a sunflower on the road
I couldn’t just leave her behind.
Grew her from a tiny seed
Watched her climb and grow
Always reaching for the sky.
She made it past eight feet
And I couldn’t say goodbye.
She’ll finish out her life
In cool, clean water
A burst of sunshine
In my tiny RV and
When her time is done
I’ll save her seeds for
My next garden
So she will always be.
Loved Me Young
I took your love and absorbed it into my skin
then when you left, I was lost…so
I leaned on memories and I was OK again.
I’m going to save your love till the day I die
When I miss you, I’ll take a little out
dust myself and remember not to cry.
A little pink dust coming straight from my heart
the love that you gave will always be a part.
Your caresses all over my skin will forever shine
you can’t take back those moments, they are mine.
Like icy snowflakes that melt
when they hit my tongue,
I’ll hold on to the dance that was us
remembering when you loved me young.
Jeanne Marie, 2016
Old Age
He came to her windowsill
Come play! Come fly!
She tiptoed to the edge
Brave, with one jump
Into his arms she dived.
Peter, I am old.
It doesn’t matter
He whispered,
You’re the only woman
I’ll ever hold.
Straight on till morning,
And then she woke.
Peter was her past
Old age, nature’s joke.
The Lost Boy
The Lost Boy was on her window sill
Begging her to fly just one more night.
Wendy, I don’t care that you are older
I just want to fly you to the stars tonight.
We can pretend that we are the same age
I’ll believe if you will, he said with a smile.
It’s our story, we can write a new page
Straight from once upon yesterday’s time.
Let’s fly through the clouds to the stars
Just for tonight, a quick little flight.
Don’t say no, just take my hand
I’ll have you home by morning’s light.
But Peter, she whispered, with a sigh
I’m a great-grandmother now.
I can’t fly anymore, Tink’s out of dust
Plus, I don’t even remember how.
I’m tired of your shenanigans, Lost Boy
And I have nothing else to say.
Oh, except I’ll always love you Peter…
Goodbye, now please, fly away.
Wendy, I won’t be back
This is your last chance.
She kissed his cheek and she closed the window
Declining the thrill of a last Lost Boy dance.
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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