Darling, will you have this dance with me?

"Darling, will you have this dance with me?"
asked the flower of her love.
But her request went un-answered
and her beauty went un-noticed
as her petals began to drop
one by
one.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Chair

I sit in silence on a kitchen chair,
end of the day, dinner is over,
dishes are done, room empty.
Leaning on my hand, elbow
on table, I stare off into
a thought...

If I died right now, it wouldn't be so
bad, might even be wonderful.
Wouldn't have to do another
thing, could close my eyes and
never have to open them
again...

I am tired, out of breath...heart pounding
blood through my veins like a run-away
train, straight to the top of my head.

Not that I am suicidal...
just tired, so very
tired...

and if I died right now, no more dishes
to do, no more wash, or shopping
or bills to finagle...

I want to slip into a forever-sleep.

My children grown, need me no more, I have
instilled good virtues within and hope that
my voice, my teachings, will carry on...

my head, my eyes, they hurt and how easily
I become winded from just a flight of stairs.
My sight goes black, for a second or two,
when getting up too quickly...I must sit...

if I died right now, I would not have to pick-up
that paper under my kitchen chair...

my back is out, my teeth don't line up, I am
so fed up and tired of all this tiredness.
I force a trip to the chiropractor...

Epstein-Barr is what he found.

Fourteen years and many, many dishes
and tubs of wash later,
I still recall that thought while
sitting on a kitchen chair
in a tired silence.

© Vivian

Tender are the moments

We tend to take time for granted
dashing here and there
Did I say I love you?
Tender are those moments

We tend to our family each day
in a rush I forgot to say
I love you
Tender are those moments

Tender is the macaroni I cooked
for Bridget, Mike and my darlings
Emily loves butter!
Tender are those moments

We tend to peek at blogs
but leave no replies
Will you take a moment
because, tender is my heart.


© Vivian, Sept. 2008

my music

White Knuckles

Reflection of a wicked sun
burn the retinas of my eyes
as shadows elongate
themselves before us
and a pale moon watches,
whispering softly to me
the secret of patience.

White knuckles grasp
the door handle.
Complete control is yours...
over steering, pot holes, puddles,
'round the snake-like turns
of black-top, paved years ago
by intoxicated men rewarded
for each mile with a smile
and whiskey.

A road you viewed not long ago
from a little seat that promised
you safe travel...
your life was in my hands.

Now....

my life in yours.

© Vivian, 2008

Out of the water I rise

In the darkness of my closet
relentless demons lurk.
They never give me true posit
with all their evil works.

I wish them all to disappear,
erase them from my mind.
To leave me with a conscience clear
and leave them all behind.

We all have demons, this I know,
to battle everyday.
They pull you towards the fire below
and hope you'll never pray.

But prayer works, it changes things
I found this to be true.
By praying to the King of kings,
I know now what to do.

And so I lie my demons down
and rise above it all.
I lie them down so they will drown,
and now I'm walking tall.

I walk among true Christian friends
suited in God's armor,
to battle demons till the end
with He, who lights my harbour.

© Vivian, Aug 23, 2008

One Heaven to the Next

Across green fields of clover
and that of golden wheat,
stretched-out sandy deserts
and rocky mountains sweet...

Comes a warming wind that blows
a gentle caring kiss
from the inner voice I know
of your ever lasting bliss.

Your emeralds sparkle wildly
at the mention of my name.
Your pen it writes so freely
of our shared eternal flame.

Your words to me like heaven
withstand the fires of hell
they cheer me in my darkness
and cause my heart to swell.

A bridge of words you build
one heaven to the next.
And only God knows why
this life seems so complex.

From one ocean to another
with all its grains of sand
I'll love you through our poetry
as we write and walk this land.

© Vivian, 2008

Not too many know

deleted by author

Annie's Dream

Upon a lake we all float free
from worries of the day.
We dip a dream into the sea
and keep it close at bay.

The light it flickers in and out
of ferns and of the trees.
Like lovers of a past, no doubt
that drifted off to sea.

I catch a ray upon my skin
of one persistent sun!
It finds and lands upon one twin
no greenery to shun.

We reminisce, my friends and I
when youth was on our side.
Of lovers that for we would die
that took us for a ride.

But in the sea I hold a dream,
a fairy tale come true.
A knight whose armor shines with gleam,
and loves me through and through.

© Vivian, 2008

A Million Butterflies

A Million Butterflies

In the dawning of your newness
my sense it did advise,
to stay away and play it safe,
don't look into your eyes.

But never ever did I know
such warmth from tender lips.
Nor have I ever had a thrill
from hands upon my hips.

You pulled away so I could see
your want on bended knee,
that woke a million butterflies
and set them flying free.

© Vivian, Aug, 2008

A Beautiful Place

A Beautiful Place

is where my heart soars
and my pen tries to follow.

A place where the sun warms
my skin to a golden bronze.

I could be anywhere and if a free
moment comes my way, I steal away,
sit back and close my eyes.


The swoosh of car tires become
the waves on a beach as they lull
me into my own little world.

All I need is but a few minutes
to last me through the day,
like a sweet little vacation
where the hot sun caresses my face
like passionate kisses
and the dry breeze feels good
as it cools down my hot skin.

I drift into a midsummer daydream--
gulls circle overhead,
screams of excited children in the distance,
salty ocean spray coats my skin and
glasses till the day appears to be foggy.
My toes dig for damp sand as the sun
intensifies its heat.

I daydream of a rocking sensation from
a time when I stood in between two
shoals in the shallow water of the ocean
as the tide came in.
I stood there for a long time.
It was so peaceful, so soothing.
I felt that rocking long after
I came out of the water,
kind of like the sensation when
your feet still feel like they are
ice skating, long after the skates are off.

I think back to long road trips in summer
when my kids where small and we drove
to Hershey where the whole town
smelled like chocolate pudding
cooking on a stove top.
Where it must have been a law
that everyone had to plant flowers
in that town.
It was so beautiful and sweet there,
and I miss those times when my kids
were small and loved me like I was the
most important thing in their world.
Perhaps it is a beautiful place
in their daydreams too.

I am tempted to put this daydream in rhyme,
but for most, that would be a crime.

I could free verse this daydream to death,
but it is saved by time.

Time to come back from a beautiful place.


© Vivian, Aug, 2008