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Can You Hear The Whispers ... In the Wind? – Deuxième Partie

 Snoopy Goodbye March

Today's the last day of March 2020, and I want to wrap it up and tie a lovely bow. My family had several birthdays this month, and I've already posted for my daughters Alex and Grace, and my granddaughter, Zoey, and I'll continue my new tradition by including backlinks to those posts, here ... I'll make them green as a shout out to St. Patrick's Day, upon which my lovely Alex' birthday falls:

Happy Birthday, Alex!!!

Happy Birthday, Grace!!!

and

Happy 1st Birthday, Zoey!!!

However, I was remiss in not shouting out a Happy Birthday!!! wish to my Aunt Bobbie, my Momma's sister, and my daughter's boyfriend, Bryce, who share the same birthday, March 23 (and that's only one of many such similarities, that I'll share with you later). and Bryce's mom, Furdae, who's birthday was March 30.  There's so much upheaval in the world right now and sometimes I fell like we're all going crazy, à la:

We're All Mad Here

I know my family wasn't able to celebrate like we normally would, but I was thinking of them and wished them a fantabulous start to their new year, too.

Dang, March Truly Had a Lot Goin' On ...

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So here we are, on the last day of the month, where I'll continue to commemorate the month with either my poetry or prose. Let's read more from my last collection, and, again, these we were written Many Moons ago, and that's pulled from another title, which I'll also share throughout the year ... and this time, there are three :)

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 AWBM Presents

Can You Hear The Whispers ... In the Wind?

Deuxième Partie

 

Romance

A verdant meadow
rivers flowing,
warm night breezes,
candles glowing.
thoughtfulness
a touching smile,
a warm hug lasting
for a while.
birds' sweet chirping
in the air,
moist handholding,
anywhere.

a whisper soft
lovely scents,
waterfalls and
rain droplets.

warm, silky baths
and soft music,
a nice, kind word,
a compliment.

sunsets & 
sunrises, too
all spell romance for me

    And you?

 

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The Heart of the Matter

they say that home is in the place
within, inside the shell,
but speaking realistically
it's just an empty well;
full of hollow, vacant tunes
that hit the ear like brass,
bouncing timeless barriers
shattering like glass

to break the binds
and mend the seams
is intricately seen,
to be seldom as effective
by all intents and means,
as collecting all
the pieces of
the sparkling,
shining dreams

and replacing heart where it belongs
outside, as well as in;
balancing the seesaw
coming home again.


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the door is always open

he told her
he would love her
'til the clouds couldn't
cry 
no more

and she believed

but that was before
the drought

he said that she was
the best thing to ever
brighten his days

and she trusted—

but that was before
the rent was due

he told her his world
was a 
beautiful haven
because she was there

and she accepted

but that was before
her rings walked away

he wrote that there
would never be another
who could give
him such joy

and she relented—

but that was
two months ago

he cried that he
could never leave her

and she hesitated—

but her eyes were dry
as she opened the door.

 

AWBM Blog Post #038 | 31 March 2020 ... Ta Ta, March, Hello, April

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