Upon the wings of dragonflies
RDP Wings
Eclipse Write in third person the daily spur
The sun hid behind the clouds,
afraid to show her face.
She had been hiding for days,
crying buckets of tears.
People were upset with her.
They had a right to be.
Here at the beach for a week,
family vacation, fun in the sun,
swimming, bonfires.
None of that happening here.
Sitting in cottages and on porches,
playing cards, board games, overeating.
No sunshine here, cool, breezy, wet.
The youngsters were most vocal,
nothing nice to say to the sun.
This made her cry even harder, desolate.
The moon attempted cheering her up,
that went over like a lead balloon.
She decided she had had enough, eclipsed.
Very unexpected, everyone panicked.
In the dark she pulled herself together,
put on her brightest face and eventually appeared.
So thrilled to see her again, people forgave her,
they cheered, applauded.
Children ran off to do what children do,
adults did some adulting.
She felt so much better about herself she rose
higher and shone brighter.
The world was a much happier place.
I ponder
I ponder all the things I’ve miss in life.
the joys I’ve lived without.
I search my mind, there are a few.
I have missed no doubt
No doubt if I were to search my mind,
look in every cranny, I would discover
some momentous wonder.
However, I see a fulfilled heart,
burst with tiny pleasures.
I’ve shared my heart with several souls
who gave me tremendous pleasure.
They’ve kissed my lips, caressed my skin
which since has turned to leather.
I’ve never lost a love; I have set many free.
We took from one another only what we needed.
Returned it as we found it, put it back together.
Many hearts were broken, some came to me
in shatters.
I did my best to mend them, repaired them with my love.
I know they think of me as they watch me from above.
Hey you, yah you!
Hey you, yah you!
What is it that makes you think you can
take a heart and strip it to the core.
You pick it all to peices, tear it all apart.
You steal all the best parts, leave the hurt behind.
You’re certainly not the first one that’s knocked
upon the chamber.
There have been better men that tried to disengage
this member.,
I knew you weren’t the last one from the very start.
Hearts are made to heal, we put them back together.
Even with a guy like you they withstand the weather.
I pray for you, lonely man, searching high and low
for that perfect adornment used only for your show.
Handprints
The hands that have touched me left their fingerprints on my soul
A mothers love, her warm cheek resting against the crown of my head,
Her hand on my back as I lay against her chest, rocking, rocking, rocking
The tight grasp of our small hands as our friendship blooms and blossoms,
running through tall grasses in search of the perfect hiding spot
Here I come ready or not
Searching hands that explore boundaries of forbidden fruits
as adolescense erupts; confusing, qustioning, memorizing,
warming the flesh of the fingers that stroke
Handprints engraved onto the granite of the body sculpted
by these curious hands
Hands that shaped and defined love: soft carresses, warm hugs,
hands placed on each of my cheeks as you led me gently into your kiss
Fingers twining the hair at the nape of my neck, splayed at the
small of my back as you gather me to you, comforted in your embrace
head resting upon your chest, the drumming of your heart in my ear
Angry hot hands that lash out without a moments notice, no time to duck
Grasping and grabbing, twisting limbs, hands that sear the flesh
branding handprints upon my skins and tattooing my soul with your pain
The braille you leave upon my body, white scars each telling a story
And yet I forgave you as you cried and begged me to forgive you
confusing this for love
The unnamed rage levied against me, assulting, humiliating and degrading
You smile at your prey, animalistic, tearing and thrusting
You, not even aware that I am there, so carried away in your acts of anger
You confuse this with passion, perhaps lust as I cower beneath you
You rape my body, my mind and my soul leaving me broken as you walk away
Damaged I recede into myself building layers of scar tissue to insulate
against the inhuman acts of humanity. There is no humanity only greed
and need aimed at self fulfillment. You don’t feel my pain, my shame,
only your release and the short disapation of your anger as you continue
I exist, closed off from all emotion, no joy or fear, cowering from touch
It takes a small spark to ignite an inferno that burns to the depths of my core
Memories of handprints lovingly melded into my flesh and the muscle of my heart
float gently to the surface creating a need that must not be ignored
Longing for that comforting hand that soothes the flesh, words that calm the mind,
arm draped comfortably across my shoulder as my head leans against your chest
Your heart drumming in my ear.
Victoria ramsey 2020
A heart softened by hard lessons learned
Lifetime of struggles, nothing free in return
Searching for comfort, kind words, a helping hand,
Nothing as simple as a smile is earned
Hard work, a body crushed and rebuilt
A lifetime of pain, he suffers alone
He never complains, expects no sympathy
Takes his stripes quietly, believes he’s a man
He’ll give you the shirt off his back if you ask
Expects nothing in return, and you don’t disappoint
You have no conscience in using this broken man
As he struggles to survive, surviving anyway that he can
He’s made mistakes, no doubt about it
Things he cannot change, they certainly haunt him
He’s paid dearly here on Earth
Questioned his faith and also his worth
He’s neglected himself at his body’s expense
Now he sits quietly seeking no recompense
Whiling his time until the reaper appears
Taking his stripes, never shedding a tear
(c) victoria ramsey@2016
again
Again
I awaken on skin warmed sheets
Wrapped in cotton, head on feathered pillow
I roll to my left, elongating my arm,
feeling your heat, admiring your sleeping form
Listening intently for your gentle snore
My ears ring in the early morning silence
Eyes open slowly to your empty pillow
abandoned to the shape of your silvered head
I suck in air, inhaling your scent as it wafts
Chill settles over my extended arm
Goosebumps march up my flesh as my hand
searches for you, only the indentation remains
Tears waterfall over lower lids, dripping from cheeks
How many times must I bear this
You leaving me over and over again
as the sun rises, peeking through the window
Rising I feel your embrace, warm kisses on my neck
morning whiskers scratch along my jaw
I meld into your body, reaching for you face
terrified of opening my eyes to brook another lonely day
victoria ramsey 2020
The Daily Post – childhood
Posts by VictoriaFeathers
Little Girls
Long green bean legs and knobby knees
Pink tutu’s bobbing against shapeless thighs
Running and dancing, stopping to twirl
Wide eyed wonder in young girl’s eyes
Pink tutu’s bobbing against shapeless thighs
Running and dancing, stopping to twirl
Wide eyed wonder in young girl’s eyes
Dimples in cheeks, she has two, you have one
Big tooth smiles, three teeth gone
See whose legs can faster run
Chasing each other across the lawn
Practicing dance moves they’ve created
Showing off gymnastic tricks
Cartwheels, handstands attempting splits
She can do them now, they’re all elated
Sisters and cousins creating bonds
Holding hands, heartfelt hugs
Innocent moments, good time sharing
Secret smiles and chasing fairies
God Mourns
The mingled scent of jasmine, rose, and oleander usually intoxicating
Becomes cloying in the early morning mist, the humidity trapping the scent.
Bird song a cacophony so shrill it blisters the eardrums;
once sweet music telegraphed from the ears directly to the heart.
Dark gray clouds tent the land to hold back the sunshine
Flowers hang their heads and shrink into themselves
The earth is parched; cracks split the land where rivers flowed
Love has died; hearts stopped beating, stones wrapped in apathy
The cloying smells cover the scent of death of honesty, character and loyalty
Shrill cacophony replaces the art of conversation and compromise
Charcoal replaces the colors of the rainbow, a world of monochrome tilts
People stumble in the gray fog refusing to lift their eyes to Heaven, God mourns
(C) Victoria Ramsey
An hour in the sun
Head titled back against the worn wooden bench
Chin pointed at the sun she closes her eyes
Content to listen to birds unseen, sun warming
Her flushed face from cheeks to chest, buttons undone
She imagines waves lapping against her bare feet
Feeling not green grass so much as warm sand to tuck her toes into
The laughter and calls of children playing around her
Take her back to long summer days spent on Michigan beaches
Sparing breezes wisp across her damp forehead
Moving strands of hair over her temples to tickle
And fan the glistening sheen on her face
The corners of her mouth turn up as delicate fingers caress
One eye opens partway and squints at her gold watch
Times has idled on and a quarter hour remains
Allowing her to sit and daydream on this old wooden bench
Carved by time and lovers who immortalized their forever love
(C) victoria ramsey
Victoria Feathers 