“Might I Behold You More Intently”

Jean Winters Olkonen

Might I behold you more intently
in rapid strides of summertime
when the wine flows endless
from the purple vines
and fertile trees,
pastel flowers
to plentiful pastures  —

in the dregs of February winds
when the wine turns to water,
the feasting table
to scattered breadcrumbs,
in utter starkness

I behold your face
and all that we treasure
beyond flesh and sinew,
bone and marrow,
root and river —

I hold your hand,
feel the rousing of crocuses,
the stirring
of daffodils.

by D. G. Vachal © 2015

*** Photography Credit: Jean Winters Olkonen

“Love Letter”

by D.G. Vachal

At the end of winter daylight
when lemon passion glows
with the ardor of periwinkle,
at unexpected moments
I remember

a melody long forgotten,
jubilant as a nightingale’s song,
that led my fledgling
heart to soar
towards the blazing stars
once upon the sands of time —

Now, when it matters no more,
I recall the scribbled ink upon the paper,
a voice that called my name,
at twilight’s edge
when my heart beholds the colors,
the warm farewell
of the setting sun.

D. G. Vachal © 2014

“The Sound of Snow”

The Sound of Snow

Lace and flannel fall
on February ground,
like flocks of woolen lambs
upon the leafless hills—

Tell me,
can you hear the sound of snow,
catch the tranquil meekness
quite unlike

the clamor of rain
or the tumult of sleet,
horse hoofs that trample
the cobblestones —

garments with diamonds
clothe the naked branches,
there are no echoes
from their voiceless song,
no footsteps
to their elegant

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

*** Photography: Winter Trees by T. Frarug