Photo by Olivia D Bryant
that my eyes
will betray me
revealing far more
than I dare allow
I cast my regard
my heart fights
its cowardly cadence
until I concede
to the inevitable
and our gazes
© 2018 Tina Jordan, All Rights Reserved
#amwriting #writerslife #love #mattersoftheheart #moods
Breaching the summit of the hill of hopes,
I begin the descent to the valley.
A lone, shadowy figure
wafts in and out of a creamy white mist,
draped in a somber linen cloak,
and appearing to float just beyond
the twisting reeds and unruly grasses
that guard this secluded pond.
"Apparition of the shallows,
turn thy face that I might behold."
Hesitation grips me.
Such sorrow is divulged
within the depths of his gaze.
An eternity of reminiscence
saturates my soul
like a soaking summer rain.
Gasping for breath,
I grasp at nonsensical conclusions
as time pulses out loud.
A blur of teal dragonfly wings
couples mid-air with the perfume
of freshly bloomed honeysuckle,
heightening my unannounced euphoria.
washes over me straightaway.
Gingerly I ask
why he has lingered nigh,
enslaved by such sadness.
"Because", he offers,
"I was certain your memories
of yesteryear had flown."
© 2014 Tina Jordan, All Rights Reserved
The lights flicker in warning once, then vanish;
Rain and wind whip the branches against the
Glass in a spiteful rhythm that causes my heart to
Pause then accelerate in patterns of sheer chaos.
I struggle with the matchbox, losing its contents
To the cool wooden planks beneath my bare feet.
Falling to my hands and knees, I grope in the void
Of darkness to retrieve at least one of the small
Wooden pieces of courage before the blackness
Swallows me......a creak in the floor just a few
Paces to my left immobilizes any rational thoughts;
I am enveloped in fear. A flash of light from afar
Illuminates the house for a second....what was
That I saw? The booming from above solicits a dry
Sob from my throat and the lightning provides
Temporary vision yet again......my line of sight is
Focused, fueled by curiosity overpowering my dread.
The air in the room is more chilled than my blood while
I remain frozen....mutely watching their spectre dance.
Copyright 2014, Tina Jordan All Rights Reserved Red Veil
It is often proclaimed that
The heart wants what it wants
Though I cannot fathom a guess
As to why
This heart of mine desires you
Granted, I once thought
That you were Heaven sent
My prayers were never aimed at
Yet love you
I know not how to proceed
Blindsided by this
I am forced to feel
Past the dark
Disregard you offer
In exchange for
My foolhardy display
© 2018 Tina Jordan All Rights Reserved
I cannot discern the precise moment that it happened
But somewhere beneath the folds of winter’s embrace,
My heart succumbed to a slow and furtive thaw…..
Was it by design?
I find myself a prisoner of futile contemplation as of late.
It seems that there is an inexplicable science
Fueling this curious and damnable fire within.
The dreamer wants that which is not to be
While the warrior delivers blow after blow,
Valiantly defending the fortress of dispassion.
©️ 2018 Tina Jordan, All Rights Reserved
only a sparrow takes notice as
a single tear escapes in the wake
of her weariness and melts
into the whispering current
of the Erne's south branch
it is the only eulogy she
can offer today
she crafts a reprisal in her mind
memories of what was
long ago a refuge made
entirely of child's play and
secrets for tomorrow's bidding
she fights the emptiness that will
teasing eyes of light-flecked amber
dirt stained cheeks and one perfectly
that burns with each pulse of
her very life's blood
in reply to the tree-softened breeze
Helen pulls the front of her brother's
waistcoat a bit tighter around her
breathing in his scent
before it escapes into nevermore
the crushed white blossoms
carelessly slip from her trembling fingers
into the eager waters below
and the solitary sparrow takes flight
Red Veil © 2014 Tina Jordan, All Rights Reserved
I was well
on my way
to a glorious
I am certain
until you happened
of my mind
is to become
of me now?
in my vision
only serves to
has rendered me
and called out
of the heart
can I direct
© 2018 Tina Jordan, All Rights Reserved