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.

HEAVILY GUARDED

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Three steps from the wishing well...
Beige hills fuels this somber aura.
Softly bow down my head,
In succession of falling teardrops.
Silver coin dazzle eluded my sadness,
No gazing of any rippled motion,
Glare of sunshine was my companion.
Translucent words within me,
Crystalline and lucid,
Yet a gripping joust deters any utter,
Or repressed remark from these frigid lips.
Sub conscious eager to constrain,
Heartbreak of a time bygone,
Any reprisal assuredly condemned.
No repetition of the past,
Along this dreary reality.
In sequential fashion,
As a mockingbird flew by,
Beam of lucent sunshine was solemnly,
My one and only companion.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.