I’d never heard a rose
scream
then again
one never spoke
to me
She’d lost her petals
of her Spring by when
her season changed
where is my love!
B e y o n d
the valley-sorrow awash
over hills o’blue!
is when I heard
a rose scream
all her red upon the ground
within blood and thorns
cried wilted stem
screaming, “woe is me!”
:: 03-16-2015 ::
The swollen curves of nature have dressed
herself in burning colors
like last Spring’s echo:
A sincerity of majestic blue.
Untie your lips my love and plant them
all hyacinth and sweet upon my Soul!
Like nimble fingers upon ivory thought,
Like clasping arms as rolling waves,
As tender as tended seeds
in labored soil.
I feel your colors and taste
your fragrant beauty my love!
And March we dew through dreams
of April. And May our love
continue a bloom
far past June…
are the words I speak
to my tender flower!
:: 04-17-2018 ::
ablaze beached-brash dusty flamboyant
fluorescent gaily heart in life by harmonious expectation…
of rejection?!
so harshly my lover; iridescently
in your ways
and at times when the blue jay
hesitates in song — monotone
and muted in love; is when the feeling of
joy turns pastel begging
restrain as the last moments
i have remembered in sepia
as photographs so old they are
red-brown colored;
to have known love so translucent
and vivid — a shade violent!
just too painful to recall
and now all white a washed in
what-WAS and isNOW
:: 07-21-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 