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He is my child,
a tender hearted soul
Wisdom in his smile
that came to me whole
I for a while watch the sunlight catch his stare -
moon eyes flitter without a care
with dancing dust fairies all around
suspended by his breath's royal crown
Suddenly they amass in a magical crescendo
flickering and twinkling with each little giggle
I am spellbound by the folly of this muse
my angelic sweetness that reminds me of my own truth
It is about moments as these
that I cherish the child that is too in me.
Copyright ©2007 Annette Belanger. All Rights Reserved
I open my eyes to see her
misty mountain crowned with twilight
And she sings to me a lullaby
Gently whispering twirling flight
My beautiful Mother warm with time
is dropping rainbows in my eyes!
Copyright ©2008 Annette Belanger. All Rights Reserved
Magic Lake.....fed by the spring of Creation
A looking glass for the soul's reflection
From which the image is cast
To the observer it is a paradox
for it only reflects what is seen
Asking the question "what would you like me to be?"
Copyright ©2008 Annette Belanger. All Rights Reserved
It is the breath of dew
still night misty spray
That covers thee with crystalline sight
Take in this night
and let it be your stone
But let it not linger on or lay with it's bones
Copyright ©2007 Annette Belanger. All Rights Reserved
He thinks I do not see him through his posse of bold phonetic slurs coarsely reflected in the sprinkling of his verse.
Like a day with many seasons, he unfolds though not aware
the petals of forgiving with each thorny tear
And so he retreats to the sand with many days to seize and rests his fleet of bold phonetic tears by the sea
Copyright ©2007 Annette Belanger. All Rights Reserved
It is a darker place
where hate lives
It has a need to feed itself
from the ego's lie
Like a virus that's unleashed
hidden in the mind
it leaves it's victims deaf and blind
It is a darker place
Where hate lives
No Light-ness there will it shine
No Love, no Peace will it ever see
And only chaos will it breed
Copyright ©2007 Annette Belanger. All Rights Reserved
I hold you in great esteem
no matter the mood
It is not important whether your words
slight daggers of painful knowns
Or if they swell up in tears of
laughter and joy
It is all the same beautiful day
lest light or dark, dawn or dusk
For in this ever present state,
one is drawn to truth
And oft the weary traveler,
the dedicated soldier of life,
will lay down his head and cry tears of contempt
Not to stir the darkness but to lay waste what he holds dear -
to tempt what he does not understand inside himself
It is then that he receives the greatest miracle of ALL
It is then that the silence becomes filled with what his soul understands
So that he may proceed into Greatness.
Copyright ©2007 Annette Belanger. All Rights Reserved
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