Posted in Poetry

Rusty Knight

Photo found on Pixabay

It had been so cold and alone, those days in the dark.

There was a sadness on her soul and also in her heart.

She looked to the stars, the moon and the sun.

Warmth had turned it’s back, she thought she was done.

A Knight appeared before her and reached out to take her hand.

He was unlike any other in this unforgiving land.

His eyes shone bright, through the armor of rust.

He was covered with honor, love and trust.

The armored arms enveloped her; strong but soft and warm.

She was safe, she was safe, she would come to no harm.

She looked up into the eyes of the Rusty Knight’s eyes of green.

Her soul was being cared for, like it had never been.

He said “Take my hand M’lady, for treasures are laid before you.”

“Treasures more precious than diamonds.  Your soul to be born anew.”

“Your soul in my care will be loved adored and cherished.

Let no dragon cross my path or it is he who will perish.”

She laid her heart at his feet and trembling, took his hand.

Her future was in his eyes, her past now a wasteland.

*Copyright 2022 (C) Penny Wilson

**This is an oldie originally written way back in 2014. Slightly tweaked here for it’s 2022 debut.  I hope you enjoy.  

Posted in Poetry

Color of Clouds #writephoto



People think that
your eyes are blue

I know better

the real you
the one you show
only to me

I know
your eyes
are the color of
clouds
against a blue, blue sky
with flecks of light

no,
flecks of sunshine

they are the color
my heart longs for
on cold winter days

the color of clouds

© 2018 Penny Wilson

*This is in response to Sue Vincent's Thursday
#writephoto prompt. If you would like to get in 
on the fun, you can find out all about it HERE. 
Posted in Life, Poetry

The Sound of Songbirds

To listen 
to my heartbeat 
and feel my lungs 
fill with air. 

To have nothing 
I have to do 
no place 
I'm expected 
to be. 

I want to listen 
to the 
quiet. 

The noise 
of this world 
has grown  

and I cannot endure 
much more. 

I wish to listen
as the stars 
find their path 
across the sky. 

I want to watch 
the morning dew 
dissipate 
with the rise 
of the sun. 

The sound 
of songbirds 
is enough 
for me. 

Copyright 2020 Penny Wilson
Posted in Poetry

What Good are Tears?

I use my tears

to water the

flowers

that bloom

along the shadowed

pathway

of my heart.

They fall

and light my way.

Copyright © 2019 Penny Wilson

I can cry with happiness or from pain.  My tears can evoke sympathy from you or pity.  They spring from my emotions, provoking emotions in you.

How can I use them?  Seems a shame to waste such a thing; to let them fall needlessly upon the earth.  Will they nourish the soil?  Will they feed the flowers? Perhaps I could bottle them.  Sell them as an elixir. A potion to cure the sick.  Or a youth serum. I can see myself as a street corner merchant.  Promising the moon with my little vials of prized tonic.

When I’m alone and no one can see, they can still fall.  What good is that?  How can I use them?

Copyright © 2019 Penny Wilson

*No worries, my friends.  Just playing with words here. 

Image by bella67 from Pixabay

Posted in Poetry

#Write Photo – Swan – Imposter

Swan – Image by KL Caley

Imposter

A swan on the surface, 
though your beauty only
skin deep.

Below the surface,
the reality.

You hide
in the shadows
of deception.

An imposter
with a downy soft
exterior. 

Copyright (C) 2022 Penny Wilson

* This was written for KL's #write photo prompt.

 

Posted in Poetry, Writing

Empty Pages

Empty pages 
waiting  

Wordless
anticipation

The pages
are much more
patient
than I

I wish to fill them
with dreams
memories
and desires 

They are the depository
for hopes
aspirations
and fantastical imaginaries.

Fingers poised
above the keyboard
anxious to begin

The empty pages
wait   

Copyright (C) 2022 Penny Wilson