Tag Archives: White
Black White Light
Where is that storm I summoned
To keep me on my heels
From whom others retreat
As I instead advance
One with fierce energy
That will match intellects
Against all odds draw near
Whose heart I need not fear
Perch
Flowers
They’ve suffered at my hand
Frost
Did I discount them
Never
I, as would many others
Nurturers
Set them again in the sun
Believing
They would continue
Blooming
Big League
Picket Fences
The white-washed picket fence has blown open again, inviting the varying voices that be
An opportunity, this open door, this moment, and I stick my snowy-white foot in its way
Ajar it will stay, for I’m bolder today and my eyes see the truth ‘neath the paint chipped away
Unpainted: A Haiku
This, more grand than truth
Though your lips never speak it
‘Tis part of the art
Saturday Change
Today,
Be they multicolored
Or left white,
I want to see them
Not silent.
I want to hear their frayed edges
Delicate
Tho’ woven-well together
And moving on the winds.
Colonial
A moment of balance
In muslin white and waiting for them
On the outside looking in
But content
It’s an odd hour
What have you to do anyway
Return home, to the heat
Don comfortable clothes
And be with the telly and takeout
No To The Storm: A Haiku
The whitest of truths
A moment pregnant to heal
The blackest of hearts
White
I like whispering
I like the morning
And it’s cold
And we’re cold
When it’s early and none ear can hear
When the grey doesn’t matter anyway
LisaRosier.com 