Fog

Fog descended artlessly across mind's harried hills,
creeping into corners, holding shattered edge,
folding through the memories, shielding old beliefs,
hiding sore realities; gripping reason's pledge.

In the depths of drifting thought, hope chilled,
huddled on horizon's grappled breast,
with vision clouded through the mist of fear,
logic crucified; truth wore terror's dress.

Time

Time can write with
small crabbed hand,
or flourished, flowing script;
the difference is perception,
not, as this life is.

Distant lands

Sometimes life takes those we love the most,
to distant lands, not physical so much,
as metaphorical, symbolic; realms of psyche
and of mind, where they must travel alone,
and we cannot go with them, even if we wish.

Giving thanks

Irony of giving thanks
on one particular day,
reveals our lack of gratitude,
in all that life displays.


When being grateful in the now,
is practised, truly known,
 life becomes eternal;
appreciation shown.

http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/11/trifextra-week-ninety-six.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+trifectawritingchallenge%2FIazs+%28Trifecta%29

Shoes of fear

The coat of need is thrown,
along with shawled demand,
and shoes of deepest fear,
can tread their own dark plan.

There is within mere wanting
a complex cavalcade,
of other drives and feelings;
of more than I perceive.

To want is something simple,
desire as brought to birth,
and yet it walks with others
who robe its inner truth.

The coat of need is thrown,
along with shawled demand,
and shoes of deepest fear,
can tread their own dark plan.

http://dversepoets.com/2013/11/30/poetics-a-mile-in-these-shoes/#respond

Commercial

You made your love conditional,
as if it were for sale,
a contract read and neatly signed;
my heart did feel betrayed.

Dreaming sight

Shadows shorn from shouldered shapes declining,
drawn from rested elbows of the turning path,
draped across the lap of listless sun and sorrowed earth,
casting darkness, mottled, through reflected light,
to hold the image constant, drifting, dappled shades,
which lead the way to distant lure and dreaming sight.

Potential held within the arms of curving branch,
that moment on the road to hope - horizon's call,
where what lies far beyond does promise more it seems,
and yet, is harsh reflected, burning silent on the dusty road,
in contrast sharp and rigid, captured in the glare, unsheltered,
sweltered, aching in unforgiving vision, as freedom is bestowed.