TIMELESS

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

When the being passes on,
Departs this earthly life,
Soars into the hereafter.
Leaving behind a husk,
Of flesh and bone,
Hollow and foreign,
In front of weeping eyes.
The heart oblivious,
Filled beyond capacity,
Just as the day before,
When the spirit burned bright.
Perpendicular angles,
On opposite ends,
Contrary realms,
Infest sparingly in my head.
Inundated in thought,
My heart pulsated,
While yours stood still…
But this presence I feel,
Unshakeable and rigid,
I know deep down,
Is the fire of your soul.
Its validity infinite,
As my love for you…
You are here with me,
Inexplicably diffused,
Intricately manoeuvred,
In the gentle evening breeze.
The brightest star at night,
Aligning with my every stride.
Navigator to my intuition,
You lead me to the fountain.
These joyous elements,
Caress my sanity.
Snippets and fragments,
Systematic proof,
And authentic prelude,
Of immortality.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

FORWARD EVER

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

My faith blindfolded,
Credence camouflaged,
From this ardent love,
And fiery passion,
I have deep down for you.
Walking the tightrope,
To a blissful Utopia,
I leave dubious speculation,
Behind my shoulders.
Like a withered flower,
On a porous rock.
Spirited procreation awaits,
Spawn of a fervid twin flame.
Underneath satin clouds,
Among resplendent trees,
Where sunsets are a myth.
Love will flourish,
As the eternal blaze,
Continuously burns.
The tightrope I shall walk,
In my ebony aura,
Guided by this,
Immovable seedling,
Fixated inside of me.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

A ROSE FOR A ROSE

PHOTO BY PEXELS

Fragrant flower for you my love,
Keepsake when I’m not around.
A replica of what we share,
Take a minute to ponder…
Crimson and vibrant,
My heart cries a joyful noise.
Each petal like time capsules,
Guarding our serendipitous souvenirs.
Oh the enchanting aroma!
That materializes solely,
From the heart that is meant for you.
Nurture this specimen, darling,
The way you feed my soul.
This beauty before you,
Stems deeper than what,
The eyes can see.
I know you will find it,
You have reigned victorious,
In the rubble that is me.
Should it wither and fade,
Never you look away…
True beauty is immortal.
Interspersed in infinity,
Ubiquitous and free.
Precise path you will surely,
Travel together with me…
Be bona fide and ready,
To turn memories into memoirs.
Vivid flower,
Momentous stepping stone,
Long live our love…

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

LIFELINE

PHOTO BY PIXABAY
Crying eyes,
Beneath an ember moon.
From a fragile frame,
Tears trickle ,
Unapologetically,
As the weary soul surrenders.
A lonesome heart,
Discarded into the,
Uninterrupted nocturnal chill.
Premature babe,
Its innocence impaired,
For delusional gain.
This spectacle of light,
Brandishing from,
The celestial sky,
Is all that's left.
At this dark hour,  
In this tarnished gap,
Devour this beacon of hope.
May the sunrise be,
Slow and surreal.
This gleam is all that's left...


(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

CLOUD NINE AVENUE

PHOTO BY UNSPLASH

This must be the corner of paradise,
Where heavenly angels roam.
Rhinestone glare extends,
From the greenest of grass,
Near a sapphire enriched sky.
Trees boasts a geranium red,
Foliage undulate from wispy winds,
In simultaneous fashion,
With the spherical radiance,
Of the setting sun…
A pathway meticulously landscaped,
In the awe of amethyst,
Befitting the touch ,
Of a king’s mantle.
Fertile ground comes alive,
Resonant sound of,
A musical harp embedded,
Into the mountainous valley.
Vibration combines with,
Onset of twilight,
And departure of a violet haze,
Amidst lone star’s greeting.
Blanket of jubilance,
Awaits the wandering nomad.
To lay carefree upon,
Basking in the glory of,
True perfection.
Peacefulness resides here…

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

BROKEN BALLAD

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Listen carefully,

You’ll hear the somber song,

In my sadness.

That piercing falsetto,

Shatters the mirrored doorway.

Tears stream down,

Rigid and swift.

An enigmatic flow,

Unaware of their fate…

They were in firm solidarity,

With my heartbreak.

Synchronization so metrical;

Feeling like a puppet on a string.

These masterminds,

Of this dreary hole,

I now dwell in…

As I sit here,

Doleful and dejected,

The rhythmic chant,

Consumes inside of me.

Glum quivers,

Unending…

(c) Monica St Hillaire. 2021.

BOUNTIFUL

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

I am a wordsmith,

Versatility overrun,

The corners of my mind.

Prolific and exuberant,

Permit my narration,

Witness these fruits fall.

Like a methodical chronicle,

Or cosmic carousel,

May every chord resonate.

Bearer of warmth,

And solace to the downtrodden,

The shining catalyst,

To the beloved and betrothed.

An angelic advocate,

The estranged scouts,

This earth to find.

Cryptic messages,

Stern intellectual maze,

A sapiosexual’s delight.

These words shall twirl,

Like rose petals in spring,

Dandelion seeds ,

Rotating in the blustery wind,

Over and over again,

Whilst the vast fruits fall…

Join me in my journey.

I am a wordsmith.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

A DATE WITH DESTINY

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Meet me near the melting sun,

To watch the brilliance of tinted clouds,

Cease to exist.

Here our love will blossom,

It has been concealed too long.

You are the lily in my life,

I want this world to know.

We’ll keep our eyes fixated,

On the mountain top,

Till the last glimmer fades…

Eloquent words I solemnly utter,

Professing this undying,

Love for you.

Daylight will wane,

As the silhouette of the night,

Encircle us both.

I delicately draw you near,

Moments before our love,

This unwavering supernova,

Illuminates the shadowy darkness,

Replenishing the twinkling sky.

The descending sun,

Is where we shall meet.

As the day retreats for sleep,

Awaken is our newfound love.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

LIAISON

PHOTO BY PIXABAY
Cupid flew over my house last night,
That winged silhouette was you...
Your playful chuckle echoed in,
The dead of night.
Arrows harmonized,
Like a golden wind chime.
My rattling window was no match,
For that glorious sound.
Discreet you were not,
Overflown with passionate thoughts.
Perspiration trickles,
'Neath  the glacial stars.
I crave a touch that is tender...
Stumbled upon,
A whirlwind of emotions,
A slave at their beckon call.
You mischievous maker!
It just had to be you.
Who else owns a potent,
So strong?
Who? 💘💘💘

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.

CLOAK OF JUDAS

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Worn cloth albeit of beads and sequins,

Woven and interlaced of a distinct textile.

Custom made for the vile creature,

Who dons an impostrous smile,

In hopes that the fox will cry.

Leads his flock to an arid desert,

Fruitless and impoverished,

Where lioness grow manes.

They walk the beat.

Only lull speaks volumes.

River stream a horizon’s touch away,

These parched lips quiver.

Vinegar is the taste,

Just before it all vanishes.

Is this a mirage gone awry?

Do you add insult to my confusion?

No stench of ignorance here,

This is not bliss!

Walking this cracked surface,

Naked in truth and integrity,

And you stride alongside,

Clothed in deceit and dishonesty,

I visualize ending this,

Antagonizing relay race.

The baton shall fall.

You see…

Forthrightness always creeps in,

Like an innocent child,

Waiting anxiously to be held.

No revelation to my enemies,

Will be made.

You are never to kiss this cheek.

Despair has left a scar upon my back,

A colossal pillar of strength,

Materializes within me.

Samson you are not.

Weakness becomes you,

And withering is imminent.

Impending arrests are for naught,

The army has retired.

Bare will be the palm of your hands,

For there are no pieces of silver,

To collect.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.