EVOLUTION

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Lest I forget
Breaking free this pivotal morn
Marvel in metamorphosis
Doused in redemption
Remembered the dark night
Encroached in cascade fashion
My space in destiny now depleted
A weight so unendurable
My head elevated to the lull sky
The goal to feel less constricted
Even for a brief moment
Does a butterfly recall
Any remnants from its cocoon
An alluring apparition
From the faded chrysalis
Allow the sequence to conform
Like a string of priceless pearls
This world is ready
Dormancy has died
Life will indeed go on
Let my wings flutter and soar
Interlaced with a sunrise
Ardorned in brilliance
I am breaking free

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

ABSTRACT

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Erroneous...
Spasms like a wave at sunset
Gently uniting with the sandy shore
Serendipitous collision maybe...
A tender to the touch feel
But you are gone...
Crystalline illusion that is fading fast
No prismatic rainbow
That hoists the pot of gold
What am I to receive from a naive heart?
Turmoil grasping for navigation
You are gone...
Time will indeed wane
Hills and valleys await to greet me
For I radiate warmth
Monarchs shall flutter their wings merrily
But for now no whistling from the wind
You are gone...

(c) Monica St Hillaire.

BY THE WAYSIDE

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.