I could write about
my buoyant mood
or fluctuating state
of optimism. My
will and my wishes
could easily show a
plan or a goal, or
even inner vision.
Yesterday’s gentle
memories or today’s
unattributed sense
of satisfaction, are
considerable enough
to allow the pencil
some action. I could
think of those things,
and cherish them all,
but in simpler form
a flower says it all.
j.g.l.

À la nuit

Luna radiates stardust and
wonder, sharing the bounty.
Her light bleeds her life
into the leaves and beings,
nourishing all things beneath
her aura. Comfort and peace.
Like a mother. À la nuit.
Through the stillness the
cycle of night continues.
Another phase, full at
this time, intensity shines
on all you wish to see.
All those who feel.
Like a child. À la nuit.
Changes soon, another cycle.
The light will fade, but not
the radiance. Or love.
© 2010 j.g. lewis

Mondays are just young Fridays

It’s after the rain, when
the temperature dips
and the raging humidity
slips away, if only for
an hour or two.
The storm has passed
and, for a while, your
troubles have dissipated.
You can breathe.
Even the wet cement
of the city smells sweet
and fresh. Nourished
by the scent of memory,
fulfilled by a sense of hope,
for an hour or two
everything seems alright.
You want to send this
feeling out to those you
care for to remind them
all is good, after the rain.
                                                                  j.g.l.