Absolute Consequence

Crushing blows,
in the darkness of night,
becomes blinding fear,
incapacitating the consciousness,
and,
he is in a dream....

round and round stirring about,
the realness, has gone,
a moment ago he was sitting,
crying for lost days of youth,
then,
he woke...

Floating, yes floating,
towards flashes of light,
wait, something was wrong,
what had he done,

a mistake, a mistake it seemed,
anxiety came rushing;
then peace drew near,
and so,
he calms.....

He could not return,
questions answered upon thought,
his body lifeless on the floor,
and,
he rose....

Why are they scared,
crying about,
something must be wrong,
oh what had he done,
anxiety came a rush;
but peace drew near,
and,
he calms....

yes he must go,
but what had he done,
it had only been a thought,
not something to be certain,
then crashing blows,
and darkness of the night
lights flashing about,
now this would be his consequence,
and,
he cries....

arms of love,
burst through streams aglow
encircle him about,
evoking peace absolute
so,
he rests...

mistakes erased,
chronicles made anew,
a diary of learning,
now visitations emerge,
and,
in spirit, he lives.....

Author Notes

I have never written like this before, I don't know if it will make sense, all I can say is, what was it like when he left....

© Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved, September 25 2013

Upon Autumn's Sleeve

Dear autumn sweet autumn
have you now come,
my old friend I dare to say,
each fallen leaf, from your time so brief,
brings to me long ago, oh do convey,

that moment from life, you made so sweet,
remember when with me you sat,
under harvest moons after long afternoons,
yes with autumn my time beget.

And here and there upon Autumn's sleeve,
my memories alive are burned deep within;
one simple gust of a tender autumn rush,
leaves me breathless, again and again.

That bristly breeze upon my cheek,
the aroma's, the sights, the prose,
when I close my eyes I feel it deep inside,
dearest autumn what joy you do bestow.

Oh autumn my autumn, you are my love,
thus for me you have never left,
you stay by my side and hear my cries,
and bring to be again, all I loved from the past....

Author Notes

Contest prompt: Burning Autumn, take it where you will What does this season invoke in you? Autumn as metaphor. The poems should not be simply about fall colors.

For me Autumn is my muse, my love, and holds with it all that is dear....
© Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved,September 21 2013

Affirmation Sublime

When the night is thick and the wind is cold
and you sleep in your bed all alone
when your time has come
with the deepness of rem
that's when its time
to see them again.

Stir they do, ever so quietly,
some say they are ghosts,
but in reality,
they are just people, like you and me
who have lived on this earth as our family.

And fearing to disrupt,
the human side of thought,
they prefer the midnight hour,
when minds are not fought,

to visit to see,
those whom they've left behind,
faces in the window,
become affirmations sublime.

They have not gone far,
and they mean not to scare,
just like you they need to see,
those they've left in despair,

And if we could but look on,
with a glowing peaceful eye,
understandings of the night,
would no longer be awry.

We would see beyond our window,
those whom we love, yes are alive,
in paradise for now they stay,
until the time when we all arrive...

Author Notes

Contest Prompt: You're awoken from your midnight sleep in your favorite chair to your dog barking wildly in the living room. Pulling her outside you look out the window, only to see a face staring back at you. Whose is it? Why are they there? Be inspired

© Dixie Dawn Michelle, All rights reserved. September 21 2013

The Tide

RESCUE ME MY OCEAN
OH SEA OF MY SOUL
ENGULF ME IN THE TIDE OF YOUR PEACE
SAVE ME FROM THE PAIN OF THIS REALM

I AM CURSED
TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU
WITHOUT ONENESS
SUBMERGED IN SUFFERING
THAT LEADS MY EXISTENCE

FREE MY HEART
I BEG YOU MY WATER OF LIFE
TAKE ME TO WHERE I AM LOVED
TO YOUR HOME THAT BELONGS TO ME STILL
UPON THE SHORES OF HEARTS
WHERE MYSELF IS BURIED IN A CITY OF THEN
SURROUNDED BY AN AURA OF ACCEPTANCE
ABLE TO BE THAT WHICH I AM
THOUGH EVEN SO
I WILL COMPLETE ALONE
AND YET
WITH THE BREATH OF YOUR WIND
IS ME
IS MY STRENGTH
THAT ALL MAY BE DONE...

Author Notes

my love Lisbon Portugal, and the sea from which it came...

© Dixie Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved, 2009

The Ballad of Billy Yank

I'm Billy Yank,
that's what they say,
but I was wondering,
what is that anyway.

The midwest it is,
where I come from,
I work on my farm,
same as Johnny has done.
I'm told that I must,
shoot Rebels down,
though what is a Rebel,
but a man from the South.

I imagine him to be,
a man the same as me,
with no choice left,
but to protect his family.

And I hate it now
I just want to say,
hurting women and children,
while their husbands are away,

Then the look in Johnny's eyes,
as I cock my gun,
he knows the ends coming,
frozen there too scared to run.

Maybe Soon it might be me,
frozen still,
and can't breath,
no I don't like this at all,
this war that had to be.

So I'm writing this down
today just in case,
I should loose my life,
laying here to waste,

A man is a man,
soldiers all we be,
North or South,
it matters not to me,

And I Billy Yank,
say to Johnny Rebel this day,
God be with you,
I will forever Pray!

Author Notes

when reading and learning about history, and living our daily lives, sometimes, we forget, that the other side, is human too....

© Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved, 2009

Drops of Lucid

She watches as drops,
slide slowly down the glass,
dripping onto the pane,
then fall down to the grass,

the rain cries upon her window,
her tears match its rhythm,
falling about her pillow case,
as she escapes thoughts of visions,

If only she could remember......

That sound,
that of the rain,
it strikes a lively tune,
an old chorus refrain,

it brings a faded memory,
and she feels her agedness,
though once she was young and divine,
oh how she has digressed,

And she knows.......

of dancing through billowy nights,
with stars that shone so bright,
white gloves and bow ties delight,
her treasure is a dream,
yet she asks,

from where this memory came...

and She lays upon her bed,
with thoughts of who am I,
panic in her voice she asks,
am I still alive,

then it comes again....

the sound of rain,
upon the window pane
billowing nights and stars so bright,
majestic days and gallant knights,
a fleeting moment,

when lucid prevails....

Author Notes
For those who suffer with Alzheimer's and Dementia a contest piece for the topic: Sit by your favorite window and write a poem about life beyond the glass.....you can follow this at http://allpoetry.com/contest/2614953-Window_Words_Groups_Speak_To_Me___On_Bended

© Dixie Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved,September 6 2013

The Midst of Paradise

In the midst of twilight,
just beyond the sunset,
where birds grow quiet,
and the wind becomes shallow breaths,

Spirits do reside,
but not on streets paved of gold,
here there are no harps,
or cloud puffs so bold,

A place of serine,
Lying just before our eyes,
its a dimension of this earth,
created for all who've come to life,

Tis there you will meet me,
when we've both grown old,
in that place not so far distant,
through the veil thus behold,

As we do then await,
the great resurrection time,
we will learn and grow,
then change,
in the twinkling of an eye,

Oh how great it will be,
when we live past twilight,
how beautiful the sunrise,
we will see from paradise,

It will be you and me,
long friends seeing earthly pasts,
we will live together forever,
together at long last....

© Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved September 3 2013

Comes The Rain

The sun is shinning bright outside
yet, even still, does come the rain
out of nowhere they do appear
storms of the night during the day

The feeling is nostalgic
as drops fall upon the trees
hitting dirt that lay lifeless on the ground
they wash away all that came to be

A cleansing for each and every place
in which the rain chooses to appear
much like crying cleanses one's soul
that has become to heavy to alone clear

I feel them now these drops, this rain, it falls upon my face
and I tilt my head backwards
for all of it that I might embrace

Taking them in, each one by one
I pray these drops for awhile do fall
that like the earth I may be free
from the darkness that did hold me all

© Dixie Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved 2010

Dust of Lilies

Those Lilies of the field they bloom no more,
yet even still, they're beauty remains,
and my memories do slowly dull,
those of you that used to live.

Stories from the past,
they have become dust,
I've swept them into piles
that now reside in the corner of my mind.

See there, just beyond the door,
a fire burned in the hearth,
it flames now and again,
for a moment,
leaving me with a taste of long ago.....

How bitter sweet the awakenings,
those pains not desired but required,
and so I sit,
here in the shadows,
awaiting the brush of an endless wind,
whispering to me,
that once we were....

A Thousand Dreams

I dreamed of you,
In a thousand dreams
and with your hand,
I walked to discover,
all my memories...

The window,
always at the window,
the breeze of the morning is you,
and with you, I found the hidden worlds,
those that I searched for
with great long suffering....

Now I have become walls made of stories,
and I am,
always for you Lisboa,
yours,
thus I wait,
to become the morning breeze,

And Live with you forever.....

Author's Note: Lisbon Portugal, my home away from home

© Dixie Dawn Michelle All Rights Reserved September 1 2013