LOST IN A BLOOD RED SKY

The sun sets slowly,
growing in intensity and brilliance.
A waltz, a dance with the shoreline,
I find myself where the sky turns bolder.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come
to appreciate the gradations
from golden to molten,
to auburn to full burn.
To red sky at night,
this word sailor delights
in the sight of a blood red sky.

© Walter J Wojtanik

Poems of Garden Gnomes – April Poetry Month – Day 2

SLEEPING BEAUTY IN FLANNEL

 

There she sleeps,
all grace & charm at rest.

I watch the rise & fall of her chest
breathing in peace; a sedate rate
at best. Snugged up, blanket to chin,
holding within all the love
that she keep boiling as she sleeps.

The day’s toil sent lumbering
as she lays slumbering deeply
in dreams.

A hint of a smile
graces her face; a pleasant R.E.M.
moment that fades as swiftly.
Softly she snores (it is for sure
that she does) because of the
blockage that plagues her.

A murmur.

The coo of a dove.

I love it when she peeks for an instant
checking to reassure that I’m still near her.
I hear her breathing change again
as she is sure she has been heard.

My gentle kiss does not awaken her,
it has taken her to another dream.

It seems a given as there she sleeps.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2018