The Essence of Ginny
She slipped into the slumber twilight
Taking along her effervescent magic
Leaving us to embrace memories
Of love, compassion, courage, graciousness
We scramble to bookmark a piece
Just a tiny piece of our sweet Ginny.
How do you begin to describe an earthly angel?
To find words which eloquently speak about her spirit
Her grace—her love.
Only our hearts feel her beauty and magnificence now
And we wonder when will we see her again?
Maybe in the spring when the hard ground softens
And flower buds appear—while birds coo their love songs
Maybe in the gentle rain caressing our cheeks
Intermingling with our tears
Maybe in the night winds when we hear a murmur
Whispering words to comfort yearning ears
Maybe in the summer sky with cumulus clouds
Forming patterns—gifting us with needful nudges
Maybe in winter’s first fallen snow
Sprinkling its fanciful fervor onto our saddened souls
But today we shout a glorious song
Celebrating Ginny’s new adventure
While her strings of glistening golden threads
Unite us with strands of her stardust
Knowing our heart is the only place to
Feel her essence.
A Tribute to Van Gogh
The wheat fields burn their autumn gold
And shimmers of silvery stalks
Storm the echoes of hills draping their majesty.
And with each thorn of emerald blades
I stamp a blue turbulent sky
As the veil of wings descend.
Voices speak like hammering nails.
I paint my brush peasants feasting their banquet
The “Potato Eaters” begin.
Sunlight dims and night descends.
I feel gnarled hands grasp for meager crumbs.
I clutch my final hours and morning wakes to start again.
Crevices capture the darkness
While night moves her wings
Gathering stardust for the sun
Softening edges along painted landscapes.
Moonbeams shimmer shine
Memories fade into enlightened harbors
While crippled words
Die in the arms of sacred messengers.