anymore

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i was –

an empty bed and no telegram delivery.

while the coffee that brews,

waking, i stand here;

waiting, for the things i’ve lost –

to come back in different form.

i stand here in the kitchen

waiting for the things i’ve lost

to come back –

to come back in some different form.

a dear john letter,

and she won’t be coming back.

she won’t be anymore,

but forever a god damn attack on myself.

her amazing eyes,  never coming to this ship wreck.

solo black coffee toast,

yet i knew that some kind of pain was overdue –

a little expected,

but never not this soon.

never not this soon.

absolute can never be certain,

tell me it’s not this again –

she wont be coming back,

anymore,

anymore.

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i wasn’t,  and there i wasn’t.

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

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of bright colour pallet

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

seasons come and go,   and the dream remains

as long the ocean waves crash ashore

the sea’s mist kisses your face –

and salty breeze rushes through your hair as the sands warm the toes

you seek and find a calm, a peace that cannot be ignored

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

years fly by,  all in a blink of an eye –

she grips my thumb with her hand and gazes her baby blues from her daddy’s cradling arms

hands on the clock never stopped in reflection of life

the wedding bells gave her away and now drove away into some other story’s chapter,

oh daughter,   happiness just left me with a tear and a wave good bye

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

dream to desire in a world to explore,   i desire more

an english isle castle outside of a busy city hustle

a desire to go back,  a desire to love and love you anew

finds a cold winter white  turning its head to spring’s journey

summer heat meets and dies in autumns arms only to be handed back to winter

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

c.2014  bgw

you are more than these words (original copy)

. . . . sometimes curly, sometimes straight. light to dark and dark to light. her hair changes upon season and mood. eyes shine, glimmer like diamonds. she’s a springtime song, thawing out the winter’s chill.  her face, smooth and delicate. her silence says a thousand words, her tone soft and angelic. her presence, like soft falling snow, graceful and quiet. the elegance, the beauty, outshines the sun on any given day. when her smiles make an appearance, my heart becomes weak, and falls again. her skin, creamy; glowing. her heart, caring and giving.  a dedicated humanitarian, her modesty might say otherwise. a seeker of truth, dwelling within the words.  a wonderful mother, a juggling between life’s acts and little wonders. a wife that only a man can dream of. wishful thinking to my reality. she is a symphony in life. a rock upon which i can lean on. a friend no one can be. the best. you are. you are more than these words, more than what my painting can say. you are the essence of my desire. oh, my love!, my heart longs when you are away!, and when you are within these arms, i beg for forever!  //// and here you are,  sipping on a pint beside me,  laughing and enjoying what we had to offer.  i listen to what you say and my mind would drift to see the images my mind plays.  us.  the future.  it’s the house,  the children and the life together.  unbreakable.  where ever that may be,  when ever that may come,  here is where you can find me!   lost in you, and you lost in me!  you breathe a breath of  life into an aching,  lonesome heart.  and i bring a new to a  forgotten feeling.   i touch your soft lips with my quivering,  nervous lips.  i lean in and kiss you,  i retreat and see your lingered smile.   and yet,  inside that moment where everyone disappears and time feels like it froze -the warmth sparks and we knew.  ////  sometimes curly, sometimes straight. light to dark and dark to light. her hair changes upon season and mood. eyes shine, glimmer like diamonds. she’s a springtime song, thawing out the winter’s chill.  her face, smooth and delicate. her silence says a thousand words, her tone soft and angelic. her presence, like soft falling snow, graceful and quiet. the elegance, the beauty, outshines the sun on any given day. when her smiles make an appearance, my heart becomes weak, and falls again. her skin, creamy; glowing. her heart, caring and giving.  a dedicated humanitarian, her modesty might say otherwise. a seeker of truth, dwelling within the words.  a wonderful mother, a juggling between life’s acts and little wonders. a wife that only a man can dream of. wishful thinking to my reality. she is a symphony in life. a rock upon which i can lean on. a friend no one can be. the best. you are. you are more than these words, more than what my painting can say. you are the essence of my desire. oh, my love!, my heart longs when you are away!, and when you are within these arms, i beg for forever!….

c. 2013 bgw

a christmas eve together

 

the day fell asleep,  and night awoke

by evenfall

the sun was masked by the incoming clouds

and soon the winter night began

the snow fell gracefully and silently in its dance

and collected on the cold hardened ground below

too long ago and too far away –

spring,  just a faded memory

 

welcoming the winter is here

outside, on the front parlour windows,

the christmas lights reflected off of the thin blanket of snow,

illuminating the darkened porch – giving it christmas charm

pea coats and boots,  scarfs and hats layer in the warmth

as we go caroling through the neighborhood

 

down to the town square we go

the snow that had collected crunches under our shoes

the local shops were all decked in their christmas cheer glow

her hand i hold as she clings onto my arm

she catches the descending flakes and watches them melt

 

a child’s laughter fills a parent’s heart,  a merry christmas to all

it’s a christmas celebration as we skate on the ice

the hot chocolate and peppermint stick,  warm us up as we wait for  st. nick’s  arrival

all children eyes fill with amazement as their anticipation grows

christmas time wishes,  and a towns gathers

a towns prayer,  to a saviours birth we remember ;

 

one night of peace and unity peeks into a smothered world of uneasiness and uncertainty

every person, together,  if all only for one night,  stand and holds hands

praying  and hoping  for the same ideas and needs,  the peace and love that is lacking

in this nation,  in this world – in our minds.

Almighty!!

please lay a hand of comfort and peace in those hearts that are suffering tonight.

we all are blessed,  but we all long for some peace tonight,  in us and in others

and in You we seek the shelter that we all need now

thank you Lord for the blessing of Jesus,  for in Him we can find that comfort and peace

the strength to live another day,  we long to walk beside you in assurance

in these times of wickedness and trickery,  You deliver the peace

 

outside the front parlour window

the christmas lights reflected off of the thin blanket of snow,

illuminating the darkened porch,  giving it christmas charm

the day fell asleep,  and night awoke

by evenfall

the sun was masked by the in coming clouds

and soon the winter night began

 

the fire crackles and pops and the christmas tree lights slowly fade in and out

the dog sleeps away on the warm pillow by the hearth

on the couch,  i hold you,  side by side,  my arm around you

and your head gently rests on my shoulder,  we are wrapped cozy in a blanket

the yule log glows brightly of orange flames of warmth

our eyes slowly shut

the tic tocs of the grandfather clock grows louder as the fire calms

winter night,  good night

 

the snow fell gracefully and  silently in its dance

and collected on the cold hardened ground below

the chimes toll six and the winter’s night tale ends

a christmas morning begins

the snow fell gracefully and silently in its dance

and collected on the cold hardened ground below

the stockings full and the aroma of coffee fills the air

a white christmas,  joy to the world

and a merry christmas to you

merry christmas to you

 

c. 2013  bgw

the surprise in mind

. . . .i thought about her,  for about the millionth time today.  but the drive home from work just does that to me.   it gave me time to wind down from work,  and,  of course,  think of her.  she had been called out of town on business,   and had been away for a week and half.   i always counted the days when she was gone,  and counted the days when she’d be back.   it just became a habit.   but the thought of her could always cool me down,  after a hard day at  work.  frustration wiped away by the thought of her smile,  her kiss that would await for me at the door,  or by the loving reenforcement a man needs after being chewed out by a boss.   but i knew that i wasnt going to get greeted by any of  that today,  and the thought of her was just o.k.,  and seven days from now,  i knew it would be even better.   and somehow,  a smile crept onto my face.   like a horse pill that’s hard to swallow,   i just take these  lonely days one by one.   i came to the long gravel drive that leads to our farm town home.  in the summer,  surrounded by tall corn stalks,  and in the winter,  surrounded by the howling winds.   but with it being only june,  the  corn had only grown to about ankle height,  and that’s  largely due to the fact that spring brought a lot of rain, had flooded the fields.  slowing my pace,  and turning onto the drive,  i drive up towards our castle,  and park in the turn about,  right by the door.   i got out and grabbed my briefcase,  and walked back down to the drive to the mailbox,  to retrieve what the postman had brought.   bills,  coupons and more junk to throw away.   i don’t mind the walk.  not today.  the sun felt warm and welcoming.   a slight breeze comes and goes,  and the thought of her hair gently blowing in her face when she pulls it back behind her ears,   fills in the gaps of hurried silence.   i come to the mailbox and open its little door and i grab what is inside.   walking back up towards  the castle in the field,  i hold the mail in the one hand, and carry my briefcase in the other.   i walk up the two concrete steps that lead me the back door,  laundry room door,  and i turn the key and the door hinges squeak as i open it.   taking off my shoes  and setting my briefcase  down,  out of habit,  i turn to look for her.  and silence welcomes me instead.   i walk to the kitchen and throw the mail on the nooks table and i open the refrigerator.   the coolness hits me as i reach in and grab a cooled drink.  i turn back to the table and pull back a chair and relax for a minute.  taking a sip,  i grab the mail and look through it.  ads,  coupons and bills.  but in the back of the stack,  was something different.   a postcard.  a cityscape was its cover and i flipped it over.   it was from her.  and the hugest smile that anyone could have seen came across my face.  reading what she wrote was short and to the point. ” MISSING  YOU!!  WISHING YOU WERE  HERE!”   signed by a couple x’s and o’s and a heart.   there i sat,  just looking at that postcard’s picture.  seven days till her arrival back home.  not soon enough.   getting up my chair,  i try to find some dinner.  finding something along the way,  i sit in my recliner and turn on the t.v.  and watch something mindless , but i quickly turn it off.   again,  the silence cuts through the surrounding loneliness,  and i try to distract the mind that wonders and  i quickly turn to head for bed.    a hot shower,  a clean shave,   and a good book to fall asleep to.   tossing and turning,  never getting a great nights sleep while the emptiness wraps its cold arms around  me;   where is she tonight?   is she missing me as much as i miss her?    i need to hear her voice,   hold her in my arms and  whisper in her ear,  i need her.   //   quickly i rush to my feet,  pulling on some jeans and my teams jersey,   throwing on some sox and shoes,  i run to the truck.  down the highway i speed down.  the early morning hours pass,  and the corn fields grow to small town commercials created by highway exits.  they come and go  as i try to figure out what i was doing.    the tires roll on like the wheels in my head,   trying to map out a plan.   she was on business,  and this was just my day off.    so it wasn’t like i could really sweep her off her feet and take her away on a vacation.   the mile markers got closer to the queen city,   and fortunately i knew the roads as if  it was my own home town.    but it was only ten in the morning  and i had some time to kill and plan everything out.   //   downtown.   somewhere,  there she is.   tall buildings  cast their shadows down below, on the  people  as they walk by,  coming  and going,  hurrying to their power point presentations.  car horns and ambulance sirens fill the gap between my footsteps.   lunchtime deli,  passing the time,  riverside museum.   could you find me?    i can feel her love come closer.    quickly five p.m. comes around,  and i mix in with the co-workers rush.   one block,   two blocks and the door man opens the door.   hotel lobby,   fine carpets and lined with gold trim.   a far cry from the country pigs and dirt roads.   hotel bar,   hotel pool and the crystal chandelier.    gift shoppe and six elevators,  all  are there,  to lead me to you again.   second floor,  fifth floor,   all the way up to the seventeenth floor,   there i take a deep breath,   and question that maybe she’s too busy,   or even busy in another meeting.   over thinking it,   i quietly laugh at myself.    seventeen-o-nine,  seventeen ten,   seventeen eleven.   is she there?    i face the door,  and like a first date,  my heart beats what seems like out of my chest.  i knock softly and wait.  a faint sound of footsteps approach the door,   and the unlocking of the door preceded by the turning of the handle;   and the door cracks open.   //    i hide my face with the bunch of red roses i bought from the hotel florist,   and i hold my breath.   out from between a thorned branch and a bloom of red petal,   i see her head peer around the opening of  the door,  followed by shriek of surprise;   the door quickly swings open.  she rushes at me like a defensive end to the quarterback,  and im lucky to save the flowers from a  sad ending of being smashed.   her arms rush around me in the hotel hallway,  and we are here.      and as she rushed me for negative yardage,   im in her hotel room.   she stood there in amazement and i hand her  her flowers.    here we are.   standing in this hotel room.   i slowly walk up to her,   reach for her hand and i kiss her ever so gently on the lips.   the kiss was greeted silently with her hand caressing my chest.   slowly she backs away,   and tells me that she’ll be right back.   she retreats to the bathroom,   and i turn and quickly take off my number fourteen jersey and   head to look out the window.   a sunny evening in the city,   and the ants below rush home.    the bathroom door opens, and she utters “honey’.    i turn only to find her in one of my button down business shirts she “stole” and that’s it.   and she’s in some sort of Marilyn Monroe pose against the wall.    quickly i drop the drape from my hand,  and again,   i slowly walk up towards her.   i reach for her hand,   and passionately kiss her,   lovingly.  her hands caressing my chest and back,  slowly unbuckling.   my hands,   gently holding her neck,   to her shoulders,  and button by button,   the shirt falls to the ground,  around her ankles.    deep kissing leads us to the bed,   and i swipe everything off the bed.  laptop,  papers and everything that really doesn’t matter.    there,   wrestling within the sheets,   hands,  sweat, and passionate love stands strong throughout.   what are we going to do?    here we are,   within the arms of our love,   surprise!   we sit there in the afterglow,  and you quickly finish the e-mail and shut the business side of your personality down,   and there we are,   with the evening that awaits us.    is it Nicholson’s or room service that awaits?   we don’t dare leave this room.   no t.v.   no outside interruptions.   here we are,   if only for the one night.    wishing you were here,   please don’t leave.   this magic moment we are in,  what have we found?  the knowing that in the mornings dawn,    i must go,   and another six days wont be so bad.   please don’t go away again,    because i don’t think i can  take it,    i need you tonight,   and tonight is just tough.    because this dream i awoke from,    found me wrapped in loneliness’  arms,  back at home.    t.v. glowing with mindless infomercials.  !! where are you tonight?!     i woke up crying,    needing her now,   because the loneliness is killing my heart.    is she  here?    comfortably,   i lay between the blankets  and couch,  but  numb.    somehow needing her tonight,   i need her within my arms,   holding her so close,   with the smell of  her hair brushing my nose,   the feeling of   her within  my arms,  holding on tight,   falling asleep with her.    i never wanted to let go.  alarm sounds,  it’s  five a.m.,   and i quickly get dressed and i drive off finding the city,  down this highway i go.   here i am,   and i need her tonight.. . . . . . . .

c.2013  BGW

deep within the heart (briefly apart)

. . . . she draws back the thick hotel curtain,  and looks out,  down at the city below her feet.   her reflection mixes in with the outside scenery.   and from the twelfth floor hotel room,  she can see the setting sun clearly.  the cityscape  could have easily been mistaken as  the same as the one before,  tall buildings,  stone,  brick  and  marbled.   little headlights pass by,   as the skycraped  lights grow bright.   quietly the television broadcasts the winning scores,  she turns and watches her favourite teams highlights.   slowly,  finding him again in thought.   turning off the rooms main light,  leaving the bedside table lamp glowing  softly off the wall,  illuminating the painting above the beds headboard.   flipping  the bathroom light switch,  the lights flicker on,   illuminates bright,  bathroom white.   the black and white checkered tile floor was cool on her toes,  as she got herself undressed.  as the bathroom quickly filled up with the warm steam,   the mirror fogged.   she wipes her hand across the mirror and the condensation slowly rolls downward.   and there,  in the clean mirrored image,  alone,  there she stood.  looking into her own eyes,  she could see the memory slowly coming back,  as there he was.   she could feel his hands softly rubbing her shoulders and arms.   behind her,  he softly kisses her neck.   but looking  back into the steamed mirror,   she stands there alone.   //   some two-thousand miles away,  give or take,  minus a thousand or two or plus a few hundred,   there he is.    walking into a house,   without her to come home to after a hard days work,    is a temporary scene.   but one that he could never get used to.    he runs  the razor trough the thick of a foam beard,  across his  face,  and  it shaves him clean.   wiping the mirror off  after every pass on his  face,   the  shower awaits.   looking in the mirror,   there he stands.    tired eyes,   and the stress in his face shines like a bright neon light.    this is not him,  and the man he  knows,   and the man he is seeing,   has  somehow temporarily checked out.    and there,   slowly,   she crawls into his mind,  and he  can feel her hands wiping away his stress,   as if she was there.   his eyes,   looking  back into the mirror,  he is standing alone with only the thought.   he dries himself off ,  dress  in his  nighttime attire,  and heads  for the kitchen.   the summer evening breeze dances though the kitchen window curtain,  and a soft distant sound of thunder dances across the corn field.    there,  as he eats his dinner for one,  he  flips through the channels.   darkened house ;  a soft  glow of the television.   where are you tonight?  //     she dries herself off,    as  she steps out of the shower.    wrapping a towel around herself  and another around her hair,    she calls  room service and orders herself  dinner.   quickly she dresses  in her nighttime attire.    as she answers the knock,   she signs her name and takes the food and heads to the bed.    she eats a bit between her e-mails and replies.   and her food slowly grows cold.   there,  she shuts the laptop,   and props herself up with all the pillows,   against the beds headboard.    flipping through the channels,  catching a glimpse of a movie,  or some sort of program,    the thought of him comes rushing back.    the thought  of one another usually floods each others minds when they are apart.    //    there,  on the couch,   his  food grows cold quickly,  as his  hunger fades away when she is gone.   the  program they  like to watch together  comes on,   and he  can feel her laying  there with him.   but tonight,  the thought of her keeps him company,   and her favourite decorative pillow props his  head up on the couch,  as he continues to watch the flipping of stations.   //  she falls asleep with the television on,  and dreams that he was with her,  holding her and waking up by her side.   but the sound of  the morning alarm proved it all a dream.   one more day of  meetings and deal making awaits,  and then she can go back home.    //   he falls asleep tonight with the television on,   and dreams that she came home a day early.    but the morning alarm proved it all to be a dream,   and with a lonely heart,  he gets ready for the day.   she comes home tomorrow morning.  //    the days apart  never moved as quickly as they wanted them too.  the short time apart always seemed to be too long.    and  everything  always reminded them of each other;    like a song,   or something on  television,   a sports game  or something that they’d come across at the store.    just one more  night,   and there,  they would be together again.    a restless night,   a wrestling match with the blankets,  and  the tossing and turning resembled a fish out of water.    six  a.m.,  this time,   same time,  same time zone,   and the sun peaks up from the horizon.    the strong smelling  coffee brews and looking at the time every five minutes became a bad habit.   he pours himself a cup as he tries to patiently wait for her arrival.   he takes his last sip of coffee and  pulls the curtain back from the kitchen window as he hears the tires roll onto the gravel.   there,  coming up the gravel drive,  she was home.    quickly setting his cup down and rushing out the laundry room door and down the back porch steps,   he watches her pull up and park.   as the dust rolls by,  they run to meet each other,   in the arms of each other,  they once again find  their happiness,   zero miles apart. . . . . .

c. 2013  BGW

harvest

. . . . . planting bountiful seeds of tomorrow

we watch the flowers bloom

just before i rest,  see the petals softly fall to the ground

the cold wind whips through the air

and the harvest moon shines brightly;

harvesting my soul,  all done in a day’s work,

the harvest of my life,  what will you reap ;  seek,

and you will find welcoming arms

forever  in the fields of tomorrow,  always a possibility. . . . . .

c. 2004, 2013  BGW