A Longing
palpable as hunger
and thirst for river waters —
to return to a place,
search for a face
distilled
in sapphire oceans,
await a voice
deep and tonal,
my evening song —
another winter melts
in purple crocuses,
golden
daffodils hasten in their blooming,
grass turns emerald
green again —
I ponder upon
this haunting longing,
smile with fought-back tears
and I walk on.
D. G. Vachal © 2023
Image by Frauke Riether from Pixabay
Come Sit With Me Awhile
for tomorrow
I must tend
to hearth-fires for warmth,
the spinning loom for clothing,
and bread-flour for hunger —
awhile
amidst emerald moments
while lemon blossoms glow
from topaz to gold
and cloud-like egrets
hasten on their wings
to strings
of violin marsh-winds,
alight
upon the infinite green —
awhile
when time stands still,
seasons compress to moments
no matter the scorching heat,
no matter the numbing cold —
come sit with me awhile.
© D. G. Vachal 2023
*** photograph by Adriansart @ pixabay
Ivy and honeysuckle climb
forbidden picket fences,
alabaster butterflies alight
upon the foxgloves,
lavender fields are fragrant
in the silver glow
of summer twilight —
I watch the seasons dance
upon your face,
feel the temperate breezes
heal
our winter-charred arms —
youth returns
if only for a fleeting moment
when amethyst and beryl,
topaz and peridot
explode
against the sapphire sky
of your smiling eyes —
I catch
diamonds and meteors
into the willow basket
of my daily bread.
D. G. Vachal © 2016
*** Photography Credit: Perseids Meteor by J.P. Danko
Melted snow and now
relentless the waterfalls
flood-level ponds
drown the fragrance
of lotus white flowers —
February, you were cruel
savage winds battered homesteads
of burning hearths,
defiant
I treasure the fire
of remembered
warm seasons —
Weeping through March
nighttimes,
dew-tears moisten earth’s
winter-hard soil, awaken
emerald and amethyst
in blades of grass
and crocus petals —
April hours come
with dove-feather showers,
lenient winds,
promise the arrival of warmer
seasons once again.
by D. G. Vachal © 2016
*** Photography by LordV@Flickr
My soul dwells secure
in pleasant mountains
Creator-carved,
where cloud-sent rains
descend to quench
the thirsty tongues
and rays of molten sun
embrace to warm
the evening-cold shoulders —
What little matters to some
are minuscule,
momentary dewdrops
adrift
in endless possibilities,
whirling from the gift
of measured life-breaths
apportioned to the living of us all —
every sacred
miraculous moment
of what we call today.
By D. G. Vachal © 2015
Photo credit: Yinka Oyelese
lilies, sparrows and grass 