Reflection of myself,
Clarion waters oscillate,
Seizing a moment of,
Illuminating sunlight.
Peace combines with serenity,
As bliss intricately descends,
Utopia materialized,
Before my very eyes.
So much clarity within the water,
Floating leaves motion toward me.
Tear drops begin to fall,
I've never had this surreal moment,
Nor will it happen again,.
In this Flawless sequence.
So to seize this setting,
Hold it prisoner,
In my time capsule.
Meticulously memorizing,
Each picturesque scene.
Sunbeam compliments my tresses,
Sparkle my eyes in unison,
With its forceful strike.
Standing motionless,
As leaves draw near.
Paradise exists indeed,
If we take a minute to rally,
Around these serendipitous seconds,
Encryption we may just eradicate,
From life's mystery.
(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.
Grasping on to the wings of a dove.
The living symbol of boundless peace,
Infinite tranquility and serene ambience.
We soar above the placid shoreline,
Alongside the gentlest of breeze.
I slowly scale and gravitate ,
A light and limitless feeling,
As I leave my burdens behind.
They turn miniscule by each fleeting moment,
Under the spotless blue sky.
Harmonious melody near the impending trail,
Awaiting to greet and welcome.
Near the doorstep of Utopia,
My clench is even tighter than before.
Splendiferous in a flawless view,
Time is of no significance.
Incessantly and constantly drifting,
In our aerial bondage.
How can I turn back now?
Sheer brilliance unmatched,
With any forgone instance of my being.
In this muted silence and subdued lull,
Clarity is immeasurable beyond words,
I discover the lyrics to my song.
Grasping on to the wings of a dove.
In all humble honesty,
I won't detach anytime soon...
Monica St Hillaire, 2021.
There is peace awaiting purpose,
Calmness coursing through your stride.
A pensive and predestined journey,
Reflective expedition designated,
Originally for you.
Motivation takes over
You shudder to think of,
Arriving at the finish line.
Spasms churn your inner being,
Utopia seems so blurry and vague.
Do comprehend that,
You must relish this transitory median.
Dance like the nonchalant gypsy,
Numb to torrential rain.
Savour the jovial waves,
Crashing alongside your dampened feet.
Or bask in instantaneous glory,
Of witnessing the first star,
From the deepening twilight.
Hold on to your serenity.
May it grip you,
As the mighty talon of an eagle,
Whilst you are precisely woven,
Into the fabric of fate.
Monica St Hillaire, 2021
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.
My work has been selected for the
upcoming Anthology,
The Sound Of Brilliance,
scheduled for publication in a
few months.
I am honored beyond measure
and feel truly appreciated,
on being part of the whole,
that is the SHORT OF IT
family. Thank you,
Susi Bocks for this
tremendous opportunity.
You are my diamond honey...
My perfectly imperfect gem.
The radiation you give,
Transcends within me,
To a point of no return.
Oblivious, like a lamb,
That has strayed from the fold.
Amidst the rough and rubble,
Among the condemned,
The unforsaken...
I would discover this most,
Precious and astounding jewel.
Profuse in flaws and perfection.
Bittersweet -
The taste in life you offer.
A balance and weight I endure,
With sheer amazement.
The hand you hold,
This very moment,
Is forever here to stay.
As soon as the dawn breaks,
Let's be the paradigm,
Of this new day.
Quintessential diamond,
You are to me, honey...
And I couldn't love you more.
(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2021.
She was golden Long before the rising sun One treasure chest You never want sunken Epiphany The pieces fit perfectly Her bosom A cradle to the innocent Your burdens Weightless To her ever caring heart In full bloom Flower for every season It’s quite okay Hand her the rocks Undoubtedly She will find the diamonds
tinythoughtspoetry 