Journey of the Heart

Choosing Love You choose, sometimes to lose In the game of love Seldom are there winners So the sprint begins Chaste kisses raining On eager, trembling lips To soft caresses Or clasping hands Walking together everywhere Passionate loving, Or heated climax And thrill of victory Soon gives way To defeat at each turn Words out of cadence Stumbling club-footed Tongue always in the way Wanting to express What cannot be? So the race becomes a dance Dashing becomes spinning Whirling and catching As we fall into each other’s arms Bending gracefully Then awkwardly we pause Panting, sweating, waiting Lose the beat, music dies A slow death march ensues And like the ballerina Twirling in the music box We start the dance again Spinning, then winding down Knowing full well That it could be The slow-dance or the fugue, The last we lovers can endure Before we separate forever The race ended, no victory crown Just regret, endless regret Julia W....

Love of Seven Miles Where the giant left a footstep Carved deeply into the ground Leaving a trace of an ocean Cradling the immense water You’re on one side, I’m on the other But I can hear your heartbeat Where the ancient oaks grew roots Feeding from the soil Through the rustling leaves That tell a thousand stories I can hear your longing sigh Where the moss grew a bed For fairies to sleep Where they play joyfully With tinkling laughter, clapping hands I can hear your whisper Where swans glide on the surface Of crystal lakes They make gentle winds with their wings And I can hear it blowing every lock of your hair Where the desert sand chooses to fly And paints the air red And makes it hard to breathe I can hear the blink of your eye Where the cave’s darkness Swallows the light And only fireflies light the world I can hear you smile as you think of me Where there’s an army of people Disappointed with love Cha...

What inspired this poem was after reading a piece I had written nearly 19 years ago… It truly feels like a lifetime as passed since then. As I read my words, I touched a ghost-like moment of me and held it close. I blinked and the salty air filled my memory. I felt her gossamer winged-like vulnerability. She had one foot in illusions and another in reality. She was whisper-thin and filled with moonbeams. She wore a short shift of a dress. Bare feet propped against a wooden rail. Hair loosely tied back. A mug nearby and the wind teased her thought strings. As she penned her contemplations, she wasn’t part of this world. She slipped into another. The prose simple and sweet. It was lyrical and filled with romance and love. She was shy and yet trusted to share her words with only a few. Unfortunately her words weren’t well received and so began her odyssey: to let go of what others believe and to believe in herself. I was grateful to see her again. We shared a warm sleeve ...

So I write this in the morning… And feel the quiet of day soothe my heart that has been overfull with feeling. I met someone new and in the meantime, my mother is dying. Life goes in waves...we have to learn to stay with the flow and watch the tides to swim with the current. I am honored to share with you all. For My Love Fire settles into a glowing flame to warm my heart and yours. I feel a calm rock me the way the waves rock the passions of seas. I do believe. I believe your love is stronger than the moon, able to pull The tides of my heart across a shore of need and want and desire Until feeling folds me into a prayer able to ask honestly for a love That will grow and burn and change and live in a place beyond you and me, A place where angels sing and flowers grow and birds sing, where we know Trust will stand like the ocean’s floor, holding life so love can grow. Edith Lazenby : “I  love to write. I began writing poetry in elementary sch...