The Aspiring Bard

I do not write about marriage and couples and falling in love. It's something I know next-to nothing about, so I steer clear. But this story idea has been wandering about in the back of my mind for several years now and I thought, 'hey, it's Valentine's Day. Why not give it a try?'  So anyway... ______________________________     "W e're through. Done." His shoulders sagged beneath the admission of defeat. "Nothing left to do but sell out and leave.    "Oh." She said. It was a flat, stale word, doing no justice to the feelings that surged inside her. She was torn between joy over her own gratification and a sudden sorrow for his dead dream. Standing before the dishpan, she slowly washed and washed a cracked china plate with her gaze directed straight in front.    "One good thing. I know you'll be happy to get out of this place." He was looking at her, waiting for her response. She turned to face him.    "Yes....

Source Don't listen to the weatherman That much, (We're living in Missouri, what's The use)? But when the juncos all begin to Hustle, You better start preparing... It'll snow.

Source The moon, More gracious than the sun, Retires with a modest air, Drawing up her mantle stars To make a single, Queenly bow Before her light Is faded.

Source The fire glows In ever smaller rings And winter blusters, Hungry, at my door, But thoughts of greater men Lie in my hands And filled with words I am no longer poor. By the way, you should really follow the link at the bottom of the image and check out more of Linda Connor's incredible photography.

Source I'm planting out A tree By way of sign, So that I may Return along This path, Reminded Of the things That came before... The marks I left Upon a stranger land And all the changes That it wrought In me.

Source If we could all stop Walking for a moment And let the silence filter Through the leaves, I'm almost sure we'd Overhear the splendor God whispers back and forth Between the trees. 

Source Amid the darkness Of an early dawn, The sunrise of my heart Enclosed by walls, A morning bird Sings loudly from a tree; Recalls my hope For worlds Beyond the night. Apologies to those of you who got hold of this link before I revised the poem. I should have listened to the still, small voice of Instinct when it whispered that this one wasn't ready to be posted yet.