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
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
Sharp rain cuts my skin
Thunder breaks my bones
I hold my breath under water
I fear that I will drown
Shake so hard my teeth spill out
I cannot remain afoot
Slogging through sucking mud
Pulled beneath drenched earth
Lakes become raging rivers
Surfer waves beat across the lawn
Noah’s ark floats down road
Springs fury beats and defeats blooms
You in my lap, arms hold you tight
Quivering, fur flies about the room
Tickling nostrils, choking my breath
Be still my friend, tis only a spring shower
(c) victoria ramsey
I neglected you as my eyes failed to detect light
And my heart slowly hardened
I no longer heard your words, only the voice
Its cadence lulled me to a stupor, comatose
You humiliated me time and again
Your self-serving arrogance
No concerns for my dignity
I walked within your shadow, gathering crumbs
Your body failed you and beauty ebbed
Too late you turned to me, I only a shell
Nothing left to offer you
You walked in my shadow, gathering crumbs
Purple plum juice drips from the corner of his lips
Slowly streams down the sculpted chin and drops
To his white tee shirt forming red blots
His lips curve up and blue eyes light as he leers
Flames burn in her cheeks as she watches him eat
Surely he can read her mind, the joy he takes in his plum
She tastes the syrup and feels the press of fruity lips
Against her own hungry mouth, embarrassed thoughts
Sliding from the lichen blanketed table she drops
to the carpeted ground taking two steps forward
He continues sucking the juice from his plum
Unblinking eyes smile along with his darkened lips
He stands upright, pulling relaxed hips from the table’s edge
Breath catching in her throat, her hand grasps her neck
Pretty feet move forward of their own volition
His back turns to her as he saunters away, smug grin on chiseled face
“Don’t forget” she remarked quietly.
“I won’t” he replied somewhat stoically.
“You will” she mumbles to the floor.
“I won’t, trust me” he lies to her face.
Dressed she sits, patiently, ankles crossed.
Hands folded into her lap.
Clocks tic, tic, tic mimics the beating of her heart.
Breathing in and out, refusing to glance at her watch.
Collapsing into herself she reclines into the sofa.
Eyes cannot avoid the face of grandfather clock.
She kicks off her heels and runs a hand across her swollen ankles.
Tears stream from red puffy eyes, dripping into puddles on silk sheath.
Clothing returned to closet, she pulls warm flannel from the drawer.
Slips between cold cotton sheets, pulls her knees to her chest.
The door opens slowly; bare feet glide across the wooden floor.
She squeezes hers eyes closed and slows her breathing once again.
Choking on the smoke of too many cigarettes
Strangled by the comfort they afford him
Yellow stained fingers on shaking hands
Poisonous fumes his only pleasure
She cannot help him, he refuses to understand
Killing himself slowly, puff by lonely puff
Isolation a prison of his own design
Locked inside, a price for reckless decisions
Made decades ago
A lifetime spent making choices with no
Understanding of consequences
Or payments that must be extracted
From mind and body in the distant future
Too late, interest too high on debts accumulated
Defeated and alone, he sits and waits for the final
Payment to be demanded from this broken man
Waiting moment to moment, puff to puff
(c)victoria ramsey @2016