IN REAL TIME

PHOTO BY RON WHITAKER UNSPLASH

Footsteps along a tranquil bay
Daunting task trying to catch
A crimson sun’s prompt departure
Beauty worthy of an encore
Tomorrow a forever wait
Mountains bring forth no justice
Echoes to imminent future prohibited
Like a censored boomerang
Beckons the dusky semblance
Of a quiet yet placid bay
Cast away callousness
Time capsules eradicated
For a walk to remember
Poised and in stride
After all
In the magic of the present
It is all we have

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022

HOSTAGE

PHOTO FROM PIXABAY

She wore a red dress today…
Not to accentuate the scorching fire within,
Or even sneer at every flaming ember.
Ultimately the sunset hue was her fancy,
Boundary of daylight.
Motionless yet marvelling at its ambience,
She firmly pondered,
If such a borderline can be pieced,
Near her wounded heart.
Lodged in captivity,
A taunting perimeter,
Adorned in solid armour.
Just a fiery crimson flatters the horizon,
Where mere mortals gaze in pure fondness.
Though in reality,
A whimsical median,
The story far from finished.,
Fate rests like bedecked poppies
In a methodical maneuver,
Waiting…
Her intuition works overtime,
Movement is imminent and inevitable.
She wore a red dress today…

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

MORNING MAZE

PHOTO FROM PIXABAY

Permit the dewdrops to fall,
Command ascending sunbeams,
Flowers might duly curtsey,
Should luck bear witness.
Be still and vigilant,
In a compound world,
An engrossed realm,
Expeditious pace of reality.
Agile wind rhythmically blows,
Grasping change with all its might.
Night rests in solemn peace,
Over an enigmatic horizon,
Among kaleidoscopic sparkles,
Forever to dangle at the cusp of day.
The medium established as a blank page,
Ambiguous maybe…
Shrewd demands to cease the moment.
Challenge that inner being to make memories,
To ingest life’s complexities,
Awaiting the unknown,
Exhale every bygone,
To just simply and earnestly be…

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

CLEAR CUT

PHOTO FROM PIXABAY

Supernova supreme,
You came and went.
Minute was the moment,
But the memory everlasting.
Immortality surrounds your name,
An unforgettable beauty.
Woman, your star still shines,
As bright as the morning sun.
The warmest smile,
Could dim any diamond glare.
How you were loved,
A flame so everlasting,
Infinity will never be the same.
The goal indeed conquered,
An impression so deep.
Woman, your star still shines,
As bright as the morning sun.
In an original fashion,
That can only belong,
To a rose like you.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

BEAUTIFUL DISASTER

PHOTO FROM PIXABAY

There’s a misdemeanor in the moon…
Trickery through swift howling wind,
Equivalent to vast illusions,
Of a descending waterfall.
Tainted in ambiguity,
Yet mystified amidst exquisite ambience.
Dredging nomadic feelings,
To roam in an extraordinary zeal,
And converse with smoky mountainous peaks.
Relaying thoughts that engrossed one’s mind,
On the dynamics of this callous world.
Fully aware to continuously dance,
Like that of daring gypsies,
Twirling at lightning speed,
Unbeknownst of an encroaching tomorrow.
Ample time some might say,
To surely interweave and fuse,
Among these phenomenal elements,
Laden in flawed perfection.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

UNSHACKLED

PHOTO FROM PIXABAY
A reawakening so refined,
Unblemished retreat deep in silence,
Mannerisms willfully suppress mayhem.
An outcry lingers to ride the cape,
Of an encroaching sunset,
Blanketed in prismatic gold sequence.
Sleep like a rare Morning Glory,
Abiding in discipline,
Delayed in eloquence.
Much is to be exhibited,
Pungent smell of revival,
No glacial falling star, 
Among the shadowy night,
Can ever mask.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

HALFWAY THERE

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Why does one thirst near the water well?
Or shed a tear near the salty sea?
Contemporary ounces of perplexity,
Yearning for what the dawn brings.
We've yet to catch a falling star,
Discover the precise end of a rainbow,
In all its chromatic glory,
While scouting for tomorrow's corner,
Threading light and subtle,
Catch and seize the present,
Thirst for the greater good,
Cry to heal one's soul.
Scripted chronicles await,
Interlaced with serendipitous moments,
Amidst destiny's  hour.

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

TENDER ELEMENTS

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Belong to me
As a precision cut gem
Hounding instinct
You are indeed not whole
Perplex is your stare
Strongest magnetism ‘
‘Neath the corners of poised eyes
Natural as morning mist
Layering the highest of mountainous peak
Submissive to your own joy
Haste of evanesced drops
Belong to me

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

BORDERLINE

PHOTO BY PIXABAY
Systemic in a paramount system
Alluring and perplexed
Leaves do not conform
In their whirlwind spiral
Ascending to an overcast sky
My every premeditated step
Bears no silhouette in the dark
Invisible remnants of shattered glass
But that boisterous noise
Warm welcome relief over
This speechless silence
Infiltrating dim somber perimeter
A forbidden space
Supremacy comes full circle
Repetition is imminent
As clustered dewdrops begin to fall
Staunch methodical madness
Only a few can master

(c) Monica St Hillaire.

UP AND AWAY

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Palpitations of a weary heart
A partial eclipse…
Gradually holding on to existence
Meandering towards the hilltop
No laughter from the merry men
As blurred mist encroaches
Faith a minute grain
But the soil is not barren
The ground not parched
Like a nomadic gypsy
Barefoot and brazen
Gravitate…
Dance amidst the wispy air
Melancholy will die a slow death
Bury it by the wayside
This ground is not parched
Leaves boldly glimmer
Though sometimes
Replenished by teardrops
Dance gypsy dance
The heart will endure…

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.