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- She Claudia Anne Krizay
- Nothing Gold Can Stay Joseph J. Breunig 3rd
- Her Eyes Brandon Farinha
- Sounds Claudia Anne Krizay
- Diva Beatrice van de Vis
She by Claudia Anne Krizay
She listened quietly to the rustling of the trees as they Rocked gently to the lullaby sung by the cool autumn breeze. She heard the song of the cardinal as it reverberated throughout the woodlands. Somehow though innocently, I believed I had found whom I have searched for all of the days of my life, and I could hear her silent laughter weeping Bittersweet music through her tears, copiously falling. I sang a sorrowful tune back to her and as a Frightened deer would elope from the arriving of the winter solstice, She had slipped through the open palm of My outstretched hand, while I tried to caress her Softly spoken words with my fingertips. I realized that I hardly had gotten a glimpse of her flaxen golden hair, as She elusively disappeared behind the evergreens, Never looking back at me. Within a gentle heartbeat, I recognized that I could have lithely pursued her, as Rippling water gently falling subtly splashed Upon the cragged rocks adorning the creek where I pensively stood nearby. I believe I saw her walking towards me through the Eyes of a passing thought… Never did I look back, lest the forest had been too dense, as Something suddenly told me she never truly was- perhaps she was none but a Vision of unreality or some sort of a miraculous delusion. I would have compared her to the likeness of a leaf of an oak tree that Calmly disappeared somewhere in the woodlands, within the crisp autumn air- It was then that I sadly discerned within the very essence of me that Miracles never happen, and Dreams often transform to nightmares. If I truly felt alone in this world, I honestly believe that If I had never caught a glimpse of her at all, I may have wept, though without a sound… Claudia Krizay
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Nothing Gold Can Stay by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd
Standing at the threshold
of Death’s ultimate door,
my last gasp escapes me…
As I’ve never experienced before.
Into the Heavenly realm
I ascend in wonderment,
now housed in an incorruptible body
and thankful that from sin I did repent.
Standing in God’s throne room
freed of all Earthly flesh,
my spiritual essence is energized
and feeling fully refreshed.
Now gathered unto my Savior,
unencumbered reality is more than it seems;
for to be in His Presence
is my accomplished dream.
Having been given my kingly reward,
in these times of everlasting days,
willfully I set my crown at His feet.
For upon my head, nothing gold can stay.
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Her Eyes by Brandon Farinha
Sensual dark drops of macchiato dreams,
Electric, swirling, caramel sparks of tingling excitement,
Such a nostalgia injected, mesmerizing narcotic,
So elegantly melded in with the endless abyss of
Incredibly smooth sheets of glossy crystal clearness,
Layered gently over warm enticing brilliance;
Like stars from the heavens, blended with beams of sunshine,
Igniting the soul in poetic melody and thunderous silence
Such a gentle pulling of the hearts strings, like that of a puppeteer,
Forcing the soul to dance to the beat of exploding rhythmic joy,
As every heart that lay witness is entranced and held frozen;
Suspended in awe and seduced in heavenly ecstasy
Like a canvas of life, enclosed in orbs of fantasy
Such immaculate gems crafted from inspired perfection,
So absolute, requiring only the slightest contact,
Making the most simplistic of tasks nearly impossible
So easily one finds themselves lost in eternal bliss,
With just a single glance lasting nearly a lifetime
How blessed I find myself that I may be so fortunate,
To look into the beautiful light of the
Dancing around in the oceans of dreams…
Residing in the journey of her eyes.
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Sounds by Claudia Anne Krizay
Gentler than a silent cry
And louder than the softest murmur
A racing heartbeat or
Eyes blinking only to devour the darkness of
The earliest hours of the morning
Somehow I can recollect the sounds
Of the Canadian wild geese
Flapping their wings ever so lightly
As they rode the cirrus clouds bareback
Through the sky, a deep shade of cerulean blue
Though only yesterday
I thought they were leaving this world as
I had also done
Nearly forty years ago,
It was then that I began to hear voices that would overpower
Almost any sound,
The flapping of the wings of the wild geese soaring high above the treetops
A whisper in the middle of the night, or bells that were
Cacophonous, resonating within the confinement of my inner space.
These voices that so overpowered me
Though quiet in their intonations
Cruel and heartless were the words they spoke.
I wept bitterly, although
Nobody could hear my desperate tears above the
Screaming of the crickets through the greenness of
The leaves of the maple trees, as
They bid farewell to the summer's endless days.
Just within that untimely moment I was about to
Run from this dark and forbidding moment in time,
Ready to flee from the horrors of the near-break of day,
When I heard a voice of a different kind-
Ringing clarion as an aria as
A song that had seemingly silenced my mind years ago
Along with the waves of the ocean crashing
Against the cragged and stony cliffs
Upon the shores of the
Where my mother's ashes mingle with the tide.
It was almost as if an angel were watching vigil over me
Telling me that I am none but beautiful –
This was the beginning of a new road for me to walk upon.
I can rejoice upon awakening as
I rise from my bed on this glorious autumn day
With utmost determination
I wholeheartedly intend to walk down this path
Paved with stones laced with silver and all that is precious,
The tolling of the bells during the
Whispering of the early autumn breeze
Shall do none but accompany me as I journey
Looking forward, never backwards-
Somewhere in the background I hear a sound reverberating, and
I wonder if I am hearing the ocean waves as they
Lap soothingly against the rock-strewn shore, or the
Footsteps of the wind unobtrusively following me as I walk, but
In actuality I surmise
It must be the sound of my fondest reverie
Chasing the tears away I cried only yesterday…
Claudia Krizay.
______________________________________________________________ Diva by Beatrice van de Vis On the gramophone, Elvis is asleep;
Your slender fingered caresses
Are for the piano, your high pitch soprano
-not made for whispered endearments.
A child's small voice is drowned...
By Schubert, Verdi and Strauss.
© Beatrice van de Vis
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