I walk up to you
loving the way you feel as I run my fingers across your spine
feeling every texture
as I hold you in my hands
I have this desire to embellish in your scent
my mind wanders as I began to wonder
about your past
all others holding you in their hands
people may think I’m crazy
that I may need to be committed
maybe I do
but I don’t care
there’s nothing compared to your essence
when I open you
I see your antique style
discoloration of pale yellow, slightly brown
very vintage, well aged, historic
the mustiness of your aroma
you are stale, but yet fresh, crisp
at least in my mind
I hold you
feeling your “skin” against the skin of my face
your essence tells a story
I no longer celebrate the Christmas holidays the same way. I remember when I was younger during the “Christmas shopping season” (which started considerably later than Halloween) I looked forward when my friends and I would get together and shop for our families (and ourselves). We would make a day of this, starting early in the morning, have lunch, then shop some more and end the evening by listening to holiday music. Today, you could not pay me enough money to go shopping during “this season.” Maybe I’m a bit of a Scrooge or a Grinch, but I can tell you crowds unnerve me. My patience is very thin, it’s one of the few things that are thin other than my hair, eyebrows, eyelashes and nails.
Instead of shopping for the holidays I would rather sit, relax, drink my hot chocolate or coffee and watch other people bask in the festivities. I choose to do my shopping on those days that are more calming, relaxing, not so much hustle. Life is stressing enough with out adding stress to the holidays, I would like to enjoy this season as much as possible.
You seem quite demure
Innocence to your style
but in that mind, peril
This haiku is part of a weekly challenge.
As I sit and meditate on your peacefulness and pure beauty, I take a look beyond the pristine, sparkling water to a wooded menagerie of disorder and growth but equally as beautiful and wonder what exists beyond that entanglement of trees, deep into what seem to me an abyss of no return. Is is another world? A fanatical place of tiny little people forming intricate cities and communities or maybe fairies and unicorns to exist within that cluster of trees and canopy of leaves. I wonder what kind of life exist beyond those glorious, intriguing, magnificent trees.