Tag: Writing

First Stroll

First Stroll

I remember butterflies
and spring grass
and ivy climbing to heights
of ivory towers, testing
perimeters of leaden grilles
against foggy glass.

We sat on the stony steps
of Winants Hall,
lingered for endless moments,
and after a while
walked up a hill where the bell
tower stood
still in time
as the train to Trenton whistled
down the railroad tracks.

by D.G. Vachal © 2012

*** photograph: Ivory Tower by spiritflare@Flickr

Originally posted 2012-02-16 01:00:57.

Pink Porcelain Cups

Pink Porcelain Cups

I saw your face
devoid of air:
a crumpled raisin,
blue eyes squinting
at the light.

Your first utterance a memory
of joy,
for in the silence of my sorrow,
piercing cries,
abbreviated gasps for air
broke into sobs of song
filling empty cupboards
of my hungry heart.

I see your comely face
after years have formed
from still-life brushstrokes —
you speak,
I understand
as I did then
when you mumbled words
so long ago.

Showers cascade softly
upon delicate petals,
thirsty leaves;
You pour
our favorite tea
into pink porcelain cups.

by  D. G. Vachal © 2012

* photograph : Pink Painting by TC Davis @Flickr Commons

Originally posted 2012-02-06 20:45:37.

Footsteps of the Rain

Footsteps of the Rain

a stillness,
a widow’s veil
enshrouds the air
bluebird feathers,
cardinal wings
fade
into the twilight’s
violet silence—

on the eve of the new moon
an inky osmosis
blends earth and sky
into velvet darkness
the rain arrives
upon parched soil,
releases the primal
musk of petrichor,
starfire quenched
by ebony rainclouds—

I leave you now
with the soft
footsteps of the rain

tomorrow
when the sky is cleansed
beyond the silent moon
the stars
will sparkle like sapphires
once again.

—Deirdra Vachal ©2026

Image by 51581@pixabay