Bedazzled by spring’s rustling whispers

Bedazzled by spring’s rustling whispers

Whistles the poignant breeze
hummingbird’s whirr 
whooshing throughout
twining honeysuckle lattice

woven rootlets hidden
beheld speckled eggs

potently perfumed flowers
while away the waning hours

waxing heavenly fragrance
sweetly-scented suckled nectar
 
the one with eyes of a child
imbibes the spellbinding waft

bedazzled by spring’s rustling whispers
in a reverent moment's
edifying intoxication

~ ~ ~

May 29th, 2014 © harlon rivers

Cosmic Clouds of Dandelion Wishes

What would become of dreams if we keep them hidden ?

I . . .

The puff of breeze gathered a hazy gossamer cloud
fuzzy blowballs rising afloat like rainbow balloons fly higher
a million ripe dandelion florets mushroom skyward
unleashed kites sail behind clouds breath - -
sweetly poignant lilac fragrance whelms the Spring air
as white organic feathery filament flit , wishes strewn awhirl ,
frolicking with the cadence of uplifting windsong ;
her yearning heart’s fine pappus traces lifted alive ,
a dreamfullness blown aloft by wish infested lips

II . . .

Wishfulness whimsically sown about in the wind
for to reap the will of heart’s desires
white doves fly on hallowed wings of hope's genesis
transcendent sensibilities escape uncommonly
unto the wistful wafting cosmos
scattered felicity flows blissfully

in the blustery wanderlust airstream
chimera entwined in the prevailing updraught 

of sublime possibilities
where eddies swirl in ether places ,
swellen with wished upon stardust ,
buoyant with glittering dreaminess ;
overspill a moonstruck stardust
that testifies when she’s near  

III . . .

In the whoosh her simple life - breath exhaled ,
imagination joyfully comes to life
lamentable dreams could have been ; could be
lost yens can come to pass lightly
it’s never as good as it is , and it’s never as bad as it is
love must come naturally , unfurl without bounds ;
however fleeting , the moment of love never disappoints
if the pathway climbed never reached an epic apex
mountains stand tall , majestic ,
await each new aspiring dawn
it’s never too soon to surrender souls to touch ;
it’s never too late to forage another passageway ,
manifest into an untrodden higher ground . . .

IV . . .

Gently awakened from a dream by a warm spring chill
while lying back in the tall grass where wild Iris bob and sway
            . . . . . . yawning , . . . . .
looking upward towards the sun soaked sky ,
as something in the gentle whispering breeze
tickles enrapt earlobes , . .
a puff of breeze drifts past lazily
arousing hazy clouds of dandelion float seeds
animating , mesmerizing up , . . up , . . sail away wishes
spiring , sleepy, dream fraught eyes
ascending towards the endless heavens ' azure

 . . . . . . . remembering how you love to believe dreams do come true
            smiling with wish infested lips as wishes float away
            foreshadowing anticipation soars to life ~




©Harlon Rivers . . . May 1 , 2014

"Love grows by giving .
The love we give away is the only love we keep .
The only way to retain love is to give it away ."

Elbert Hubbard

#love #hope #dreams #wishes #desires

Frozen Inversion

Frozen Inversion

Watching black and white in slow motion
Nature's sunrise hypothermia grips the crack of dawn ;
the chilly whisper of a fresh breeze , brushes away
the shivering star dust as first light stretches and yawns ...
Rays of borrowed sunlight enlighten winter’s darkness ,
igniting a pale dim glow on the hazy horizon ...


Daybreak’s sunrays ~ tease sleepy tree tops
Deer cuddle in the tall frost covered switchgrass ,
shivering to stay warm among the frozen fiddleheads
Soon the dappled sunbeams will filter through
the ice crystallized fir brows ,
tantalizing dormant hope for brighter beginnings ...


Evergreen pinnacles lean towards
phantom solar encounters of organic cosmic delight ;
timber spires shadowing the quivering deer beneath ,
instinctively grounded deeply in mother earth's cocoon ~
The tall amber leftover summer grass spikes
provide shelter from the cold winter night’s air ...


A familiar sense of safety overpowers
the numbness of their frosted fir hides
Thick haired winter coats
adorn sacred flesh and blood ,
warming the frost heaves
under the matted down carpet of chilly moss ...


The sun plays hide and seek
throughout the out stretchered gnarly arms
of the massive native oaks
Thickly coated frosty lichen glistens
Ice sparkles and shimmers as if rays of hope
twinkle on the sleeping giant’s stature ...


White wintry tufts , like sugar coated cotton candy ,
slowly tease imagination and memory
as the ice crystals hug each other for warmth
while the moment fades
to pearl grey ...


The frigid air slowly swirls ~
The morning's glow of the frozen sky
manifests into a kaleidoscope's vision
of cognac to magenta hues
A captivating , mesmerizing dawn
disappears in the blink of an eye ~


Turning an enchanting moment’s paradise
into a whiter shade of pale ...

Harlon Rivers ...© 2013

"The true meaning of life is to plant trees,

under whose shade you do not expect to sit." Nelson Henderson

Whiter Shade of Pale...the debut single by the English rock band Procol Harum, released 12 May 1967.

acoustic guitar instrumental : 

arrangement by Martin Tallstrom

The Honey Bee & The Last Winter Rose

                    honey bee … sweet honeyed bee

           humming and bumbling
    titillatingly buzzing , drunken stumbling ,
wallowing insatiably in blossom's touch

intoxicated within velvety enchantment
impaired by sticky silken pearlessence
the sweet elixir of luscious petals waft

tantalizing little smitten honey bee kisses
brushed of intensely hued honeyed nectar
weighted by pollination's residues

woozy... grounded in an enraptured daze
ne’er desire to fly away again
drawn into mesmerizing hibernation

surrendering , heretofore only a simple wish
... to be held eternally
... lifted by the wings of love

petals enshroud forever wishes
total unconditional embrace imbibes delight
unabridged repose of slumber awaits

enslaved by one love's petaled cocoon
the sweetest rhapsody manifests
honey bee nuzzles the last winter rose ...

~ honeyed blissfulness forevermore ~

© Harlon Rivers ...the night before December, 2013

  If only I were a little honey bee 

        ... and , you the blossoming rose

               ... oh how sweet I'd be for to hold

                         ... enslaved by your hallowed petals' kiss

                                   

Enchanting Wilderness....republished from October 2012

Moonlight moves across the shadows of love born beneath the trees.
Two shadows emerge as one...a poem by Harlon Rivers

Wandering silently

though the wilderness woods,

far and away from the potholes

of well beaten pathways

The soft breeze slowly moves

the shadows of the moonlit night

past the thorny stems of time.

Wildlife paths illuminated by starlight

adorn the alluring wooded trail

Secluded pathways foraged by natural instinct,

Ancestral prudence and intuition

Each shadow drawn willingly

into a deeper enlightening journey

As if synchronicity united hearts

learning to speak minds

The depths of daunting transparency

are rendezvous with awakening breath

Looking back at life withdrawn in discontent

Exhaling newly found freedom without regret

Lost in perpetual motion, found in heart

Separate souls illuminated by the moon

stood alone yearning for healing connection

Ardor of hope shines an inward light

as moonlight slumbers while passion blushes

The night has a thousand eyes

Shining on practical mysticism

The laughing owls of midnight

Echo illusions of  crystal clear reverie

Moved by swirling tempest breezes

showering down from high endeavors

Wisps of the sleeping sky unfurl

teardrops drunk by earth’s sod

Nocturnal Cricket’s rhythmus acoustical wings

are very quietly chirping a bashful courting song

Laughter rings out blissfully

like the joy of a heavenly child

Nature sways with gentle motion

Her leafy arms groan and moan the silent toil

She holds up the weight of the celestial light

Moonlight moves across the shadows

of love born beneath the trees.

Two shadows emerge as one

from the wilderness of sleep

Reborn as naked children

enlightened by the enchanting forest...

© 2012 Harlon Rivers 

Summer solstice moon... 6. 21. 2013

'when you know there is more to life ... for awe sake' 

Waxing Gibbous 12 day(s) old

' in the beginning First Quarter Moon'

 6 day(s) old 

Where Teardrops Hit the Ground

Where Teardrops Hit the Ground

Each teardrop marks a forgotten pathway
Where the fading traces of the passing of love
stubbornly lingers
Memoirs of a whimsical serendipity circle back
through the overgrown, once well-trodden trail

Retracing the earlier steps taken from love’s higher ground;
ruminating the enraptured memories
flooding through the heart’s enchanting collage
Time is neither kind nor unkind,
when it’s misplaced somewhere between here and now

With the passage of time,
regret is her only companion
Missing pieces entangled with laments;
heartache entwined with unfulfilled needs

Wanting what was taken
far more than what is given
Searching for what is lost;
yet only discovering a hollow void too vast to fill
  
Compressed and preserved memories
once thrived within the pages
of love’s written reverie;
seeds sewn, budding genesis,
flourishing adore,
all nurtured in a garden of affection galore

A bouquet of pressed and dried rosebuds
has no memory
The sting of the prick from a thorny rose,
indelibly scars a yearning heart;
life trickles out with the pulse of each hidden sigh

Visible melancholy stains seep out

onto forgotten footprints,
evanescing like a piano’s notes decay,
mingling as the moment hesitates;
disappearing into the unkempt garden footpath
as if it were a dream that never happened

Fingertips delicately touch their tips in a quiet moment’s musing;
feeling for the vivid twinge of the dirt packed beneath my fingernails
Reflections of ever-present teardrops once hit the ground,
washing away your name scratched and carved  in dust
where the earth will ache forevermore...

©  2012~2013 … Harlon Rivers  …All Rights Reserved

Smell-a-vision

When you know for certain spring has sprung…

There is a fragrance in the air…

The texture of touch…

The beauty of the sight of the Bleeding Hearts…

The sounds of spring…

And taste the essence…

Here & Now again!   It is a time to share!

Awaken with the new dawning day... unfurl renewal

All heightened senses are overflowing 

Elegantly standing tall with a delicate lacy 

nakedness...Savoring honeysuckle kisses soon gone...

...all photos by Harlon Rivers  ©

There is a fragrance in the air…

When you know for certain

spring has sprung…

The sounds of spring

are buzzing 

with the sweetness of  honeysuckle…

The texture of tender touch sings…

Seeing believes the beauty of sight

All heightened senses are overflowing 

with the flavor of a blossoming desire,

exposed by the Birds and the Bees…

♪♫♫   ♪♪♫ 

Wild Flower Poesy

. . . a look into the realities of the inspirations of nature...there is such a place and it is happening right now !  Dreams are so much more than imagination coming to life ~

. . . a poem by Harlon Rivers © 2013

Wild Flower Poesy

The soothing warmth of the spring day

made the carpet of green grasses’ cool touch,

titillate impassioned moist flesh.

The afternoon sun filtered through the maple grove;

enchanting the beauty where the branches throw

their favorite shades into the shadows upon the earth’s bouquet.

A poesy of wild flowers paint

a peaceful watercolor palette;  

their tantalizing pastel ecstasy, infused a serene stillness.

Only the Sparrow’s yearning serenade, harmonized with the

blissful rapture of the moment’s whispered song.

The fragile Tiger Lilies hidden elegance

draws my breath of heart level

with the Wild Strawberry blossoms  coverlet.        

The ornately elegant Wild Irises, ballet above the delicate

dainty Violet Violas adorning the smiling grace

of a quintet of angels.

A poignant fragrance floated through the atmosphere

with an aura of rhapsody

permeating from the double periwinkle Lilac’s mystical elixir.

Intoxicating a woozy presence, chimera stealing away

into a moonstruck daydream, exhaling an inebriated sigh.

The air swirled, sending an inflamed ticklish chill over my body. 

In a gentle puff of the aromatic breeze, flora released her essence; 

I was awakened, as the dusting pollen left slightly scented traces

upon the aroused skin of a swollen appetite.

Knowing in this moment, in the euphoric shade of the shadows,

It's nature's way of telling me...were are one...

Under The Moonlit Night

Under the Moonlit Night

The enchantment of the moonlit night

has a thousand eyes naturally aglow

Wild Irises glisten from within the impractical magic

The laughing owls pass midnight

basking in the illusions of their shadows,

echoing their crystal clear reverie through the trees

~

Nature gently sways in the swirling tempest breeze

drawing a shower of moon beams down

from far beyond the cosmic grandeur

Wisps of the slumbering sky unfurl

teardrops drunk by earth’s sod

Nocturnal rhythm's acoustical wings

softly chirp a bashful courting song

~

Laughter rings out blissfully alight

As if it were a joyful song of the wind

Mother Nature swings gracefully to and fro

Her leafy willow’s arms bend ardently

as she groans and moans from her silent toil

Passionately bearing the weight

of the celestial light's load

~

Moonlight moves across the shadows

unveiling an adoring love born beneath the trees

Two shadows emerge as one

from deep inside the secrets kept by the sleeping wilds

Reborn like enlightened life under the starlit night

transformed by a moment’s mystical magic

within the enchanting forest yesternight ...

©  2012~2013 … Harlon Rivers  …All Rights Reserved

Authors note:  Since some of my narrative prose poems get lengthy, I am taking shorter parts out in part and tweaking to become stand alone work...This was taken from "Enchanted Wilderness" written months ago...

"Could I Stay Away?"

Could I Stay Away?

Should I stay away from love's garden?

Could I even if I tried?

Understanding you felt you don’t know me,

came as an unexpected surprise

Knowing our souls touched as one

gave me a sheer force of will to survive …

The garden of the heart and soul

needs a caring gardener’s passionate touch

Suspended in a moment shyly withdrawn and wondering;

Lamenting passing season’s lessons of trust

Tender loving caretakers breathe in every breath knowing

the heart needs a home ...

Was the world spinning around so fast,

I missed the season's fleeting time?

Seasons can change so quickly,

patience did not even notice when or why,

suddenly realizing  you're constantly swimming

alone against the tide ...

A garden of love flourishes from deep within

the essence of the heart of soul

Never afraid of making love,

with the earth beneath our nails

The desires thriving within our passion

are harmonious enraptured dreams left untold ...

Love has a living fostered metamorphosis

You never see the warning signs

Budding spirits blossom as one

through compassionate nurturing,

deeply rooting what naturally

blooms over needed time ...

In the silence of the garden of happiness,

embrace the peace that’s found within

Knowing if I stay here forever…

won’t you listen to my heart's song ?

How will you know?

When you hear my voice calling in the wind?

Will you feel the rhythm of the heartbeat of my soul?

Should I stay away from love's sacred garden?

Could I even if I tried?

Please whisper in the gentle breeze

your heart of gold's reply ~

Speaking softly I sigh to you ...

" You are my home "

Harlon Rivers…January, 2013