tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81308012242665434692024-03-19T13:01:38.838-07:00Poems By JMariahJMariahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12860900042514212111noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8130801224266543469.post-91247583769899886642011-10-19T18:04:00.000-07:002011-10-19T18:04:18.650-07:00The Spirit of the WoodsLogs<br />
burn in a cabin fire.<br />
Sparks dance along their edges, where wood burns black,<br />
and the smoke billows dark up the chimney<br />
and smells <br />
of cedar and pine.<br />
<br />
Trees <br />
like giant sentinels overlook the cabin.<br />
A cool Autumn breeze combs their branches<br />
and dances the leaves of their hair.<br />
Slow rain runs over the cracks of their skin,<br />
and the aroma of their spirit rises above the smoke<br />
and smells<br />
of cedar and pine.JMariahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12860900042514212111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8130801224266543469.post-22082388065815455172011-08-16T00:23:00.000-07:002011-08-16T00:23:30.169-07:00Playing In The MoonlightShadows <br />
flicker the moonlight <br />
that bathes our skin <br />
in <br />
a citrus haze.<br />
The soft dark lies <br />
like a blanket <br />
over our play,<br />
then we roll<br />
and we rumble.<br />
Legs wrap <br />
as we tumble<br />
tongues explore <br />
and tickle,<br />
and we giggle.<br />
<br />
A hush hums<br />
through the air <br />
there<br />
around us,<br />
then we swing<br />
and we sway<br />
and we fray <br />
our fingers<br />
through our hair <br />
and squeeze the air<br />
that whispers <br />
through the grasses<br />
beneath us.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">© <a href="http://jmariah-mariahbooks.blogspot.com/">JMariah</a>, 2011</span></i>JMariahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12860900042514212111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8130801224266543469.post-16778351007248127492011-07-21T22:25:00.000-07:002011-07-21T22:25:33.126-07:00Heavy HeartsHeavy hearts hold hands across time<br />
and ride the ripples<br />
their memories make.<br />
Too quick to forsake<br />
the love they once found<br />
in each other's eyes,<br />
they've grown to despise <br />
the pieces of themselves<br />
they so willingly gave away.<br />
And so today,<br />
heavy hearts hold hands across time<br />
and ride the ripples<br />
their memories make.JMariahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12860900042514212111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8130801224266543469.post-42997286598090493382011-07-19T16:08:00.003-07:002011-07-20T17:39:23.743-07:00I BreatheI press my head to my pillow<br />
in a feeble attempt<br />
to push the dream<br />
that dribbled out into the silent moment<br />
between waking and sleep,<br />
back into the secret hollows<br />
of my mind.<br />
I fill the space around the memory of it <br />
with slow whispers of pleading<br />
and part the silence with sobs<br />
for the hands, reaching<br />
and letting go.<br />
And while an aching sweeps across the morning,<br />
I breathe slowly<br />
and rise.JMariahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12860900042514212111noreply@blogger.com0