Come Sit With Me Awhile

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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

“Summer Interlude”

Perseids Meteor Shower by JP Danko pic 2

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

“After Winter”

Crocus Playtime - Lord V@flickr
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

“End of Autumn”

Igor BurdinMottled colors flutter
like butterflies,
await
the pristine white
canopies —

Wind-parched leaves
mantle the oak-brown
soil with topaz and jasper
above the dormant seeds
of wilted wildflowers —

Hearken to horse-hoof
raindrops,
the muffled fracture
of petioles letting go
at the eleventh hour

when all the coins of time
are spent
and the egrets of winter
alight
upon the emerald cedar
branches.

D. G. Vachal © 2015

Photo credit: Igor Burdin

“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
beckon
to plentiful pastures  —

Now,
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