Poetry

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Unsaved

It’s an old, solid, well built house
But the reaching fingers of the
Wind
Curl around thru the door frame,
Under the window pane and in the
Fire place flue


I pray that the wooing wind
Of your life giving Holy Spirit
Can triumph
Beyond her methodically
Constructed barricade
Soon, Jesus, soon.


Perceptions

You came on with the strength of a cloud
Thinking you spoke with cymbalic loudness
When what came out was fluffy white nothingness
It sounded definitive and positive to you
But other ears didn't hear it that way
Maybe it would be best to leave with silence
That way no one could tell for sure how loud it was.


Ripples

You splashed a stone
Across the mirror surface
Of my life
For a moment
It became vividly alive

And still I sense
Unseen ripple overlapping ripple
Of the impression you've
Made upon my mind
Indelible, even though you've gone.


Totally Guarded

I flew by your underground windowless room today
Hoping to get a glimpse of you again
But the curtains were drawn
And the shutters closed
Over the solid wall beneath,
Yet I was deluded into thinking
I might have seen you
Had the shutters and curtains not been there.

(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with with proper credits.

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