Writer’s Rest

unquiet is my sleep
for upon pillows down
woke from the dreams
I long to keep
thoughts of her abound

in passions blood I rise
by desire devoured
the need to dance
within her eyes
fills each darkened hour

Whispers

I hear whispers
on the edge of sleep
it is an angel
tempting the demons
that in me wake
when dreams take hold.

a sketched idea for a poem

Dream (poem sketch in 17 syllables)

he walked through meadows
of summertime wildflowers
in his deathbed dream

Untitled

wash over me
in cool blue hues
that may turn
these red thoughts
into purple dreams

Sketch for a later poem

how do the new sown poppies grow
white as February’s fallen snow
but in summer they glow fire red
when painted with the heart’s blood of the dead.

First Breath

the roses exhale
as velvet petals open
dew shines in the sun

sketched lines for a butterfly motif

a butterfly in shades of grey
born on wings of morning dew
gliding through my memory
drinking from my thoughts of you
sweet nectars of each smile I hold
gentle from my dreams of thee
then taking flight to dance away
now painted in my reverie

start of a poem about a beekeeper

in a little wooden hut
in the middle of a wood
lived August
with his little dog
and bees
whenever he would sigh
and think life had passed him by
he’d remember
that they all did
as they pleased

Rossetti’s Woman (a sketch)

with cream roses fair
she combed her hair
and left life as it found her
pale of skin
no breath within
canvas stretched to clothe her