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THAT WISE BIRD

PHOTO BY PEXELS

A hollow in my heart.

Dungeon borders my soul,

Heavily guarded by an army of woes.

Dejection tramples on my spirit,

Kindred connections disbarred.

There is murkiness in the distance,

The road marred with desolation.

Oh this deafening silence!

Pungent taste of reality;

A realm I now dwell in.

Compression infests my movement,

But I persevere.

Stare without blinking,

Yawn without sleeping…

This pain is heavy.

Yet the notion to proceed persists within.

Song of the Sparrow,

In the touching distance.

Whistle of serenity; a sound of hope.

In an instant, my despondency effaced,

Like a mid evening fog.

I exhaled, with such precision.

The soldiers retreated and left for home,

Just as I was going home…

Never will I look back.

Should the pathway behind crumble,

Like an ill-fated stack of dominoes,

I will not see.

With the winds of change blowing at my side,

A singing Sparrow to symbolically guide.

Forward motion is now my stride…

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

BY THE WAYSIDE

PHOTO BY PIXABAY




Moonlight mystique,
Traverses the air.
The mocking bird is my friend.
His song comforts my silence,
Empathy is not far away…
As stars take their rightful place,
In an extensive sky.
Predestination seals its beauty,
Alluring in their prime.
Darkness won’t ever crumble,
To the lull of a forthcoming dawn.
Sing mocking bird sing,
Lyrics need not triumph…
Endurance I can muster,
Hold my rightful place,
As median to what is drawing near,
And what is left behind…

(c) Monica St Hillaire.

DEJECTED

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

A rotating prison…
This desolate dungeon,
All the while my smile,
Creating illusion.
Slurry speech tongue heavy,
Sun rising already,
Dismal road toting load,
Bag of woes I carry.
Isolated corner,
Not one clue or answer,
Yet you dare say you care,
In bleakest hemisphere…
Don’t come with the weight of judgement,
Cause I have no room left to spare.

No prismatic rainbow…
Golden petals in sight,
Amidst the flight of night,
Journey in black and white.
Palpitations and sweat,
Alter ego a threat,
Breath of air a nightmare,
Solitude and regret.
Engulfed in morbid fear,
My flesh I cannot wear,
Yet you dare say you care,
In dreary atmosphere…
Don’t come with the weight of judgement,
Cause I have no room left to spare.

(c) Monica St Hillaire.

A MINUTE IN TIME

PHOTO BY PIXABAY
Tears of joy from Uranus
Descend upon the earth today
An alignment so divine
Two hearts destined to be together 
Fate shall reveal its face
Beneath the pale blue sky
A swan gracefully glides
Leaving behind sequential ripples
Perfection in this flawed world
Gifted to be a witness of
A warm moment of bliss
Oblique is the gaze
Color of beauty in a prismatic form
All that's left to do is sigh
If what is to transpire
Is better than this present time
Bated breath will be impossible to subdue
The soul already hungers
May the glimmer of the sun forever stand still
The fairytale begins now


(c) Monica St Hillaire. 2021.

WHITE LULL

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Today doves shall see my face
Lilies greet me at an impending dawn
The tranquil path leading to the hilltop
Echoes a slow yet tender ballad
Evanescent are the descending dewdrops
But the golden sunlight filters a warm smile
A paradigm of peace in sheer prowess
The very kind that conceives and remains
In the confined areas of one's mind
I sometimes feel unworthy
Such an overflowing feeling
I just close my eyes and breathe
Doves shall see my face today
We glimmer and synchronize
In such a virtuous light
Not certain of its entire reign
But without a shadow of a doubt
I am positive it is my moment
To assuredly keep

(c) Monica St Hillaire

MAJESTIC

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Iridescent sparkle of dewdrops,
Descended rhythmically,
As though it was synchronized,
With the awakening of dawn.
Phenomenal one might say,
Symmetrical even,
Before my very eyes...
As I rapidly exhale,
Warmth blankets itself within me.
Serendipity thrives,
True love is eternal.
In its glory I bask,
Newfound and untouched,
Just like the impending morn.
Phenomenal one might say,
But sufficient is the silence,
To cease this superb moment.
In a glimmer so vague,
My chariot awaits...

(c) Monica St Hillaire 2021.

ESCALADE

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

This furrowed mountain I climb
My reflection has been lost
Hollowness I harbor
No wandering fugitive
But a carbon copy
Of my melancholy mindset
Willing to dance among
Soft twilight rays
Like a barefooted gypsy
Flower child of the night
Gesticulating to a fading azure
Sturdy in my stance
Divinity will soon come
But for now
These exquisite daisies interlaced
Among midnight tresses
Will befittingly suffice

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

SLOWLY DYING

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Pain of a mimicked heart
Agonizing whirlwind
Jesters know the lyrics
Mimed tune for a mocking raven
Dismembered and torn
Exhausted from dangling
Repeatedly to puppeteers delight
Seized and dominated
In arduous angst
Strings perforated within
New rhythm being born
Of faint palpitations
Decaying remains surround
Ravaged carcass existent
laying motionless on the ground
Irregular beats obvious transgressor
Leaves room to ponder
Myriad of thoughts brew
In a subliminal mind
Does fate even compensate
Will a rain shower suffice
Exact amount that awakens
Wilted wildflowers dazed
From scorched brazen sunlight
Scrutiny feels like
Final nail on the coffin
Paling heartbeats
Infrequent and throbbing
A mere mortal’s prelude of
Walking an unending tightrope

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.