Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Three Poems by Bobbi Sinha-Morey

Wooden Path

The shady wooden path
has opened for me,
the red sorrel blushing
in the growing light,
and I am free in a world
where no one can rob
me of anything, my heart
exalting at the sweet bevies
of fern and bayberry threading
their way, and round-faced
roses smiling up at me.
A cool sun is up ahead as
far as my eyes can see,
my spirit brimful with
the cardinal's song; no trace
of anyone's malice, only
the restful peace of nature's
balm, touched by the angelic
softness of blue delphiniums.
Before me butterflies pause
in their dance, white single
poppies warming their petals
are befriending me.  I could
walk barefoot all day here,
terracotta hickories on
either side of me, blessed
to be so far away from
any ill wind, sheltered by
flushed apple trees.  No one,
no living thing knows where
I am, just mariposa lilies
gleaning the sky's brightness
with me.

Nature's Wellness

Rainbow water came
spilling down the edge
of a fountain reviving
my senses, lavender
healing my spirant breath,
a lace of jasmine around
my wrist, a gift from an
angel who cared, knew
I needed wellness only
a sachet of lady's slipper
could bring, a gentle dose
of mimosa to sponge onto
my skin so my heart brittle
with tension will be still,
the aroma of white blossom
to calm me and free me.
restore my mind with the
violet petals of a crocus,
extract their loving energy.
I sleep on a pillow of blue,
pale rises, lost in the world
before I am woken, cleansed
in the tranquil night, my faith
in this loveliest of flowers.

Magenta Sunset

My heart firm as the green
calyx, I bravely, at first
shyly, walk by the ethereal
blueness of magnolia trees,
the deep purplish red sunset
having woken the resilient
light inside of me.  Quietly,
with the sweet scent of rose
petals so close to my skin,
I let joy find its way in,
clear barley water having
soothed me as if I were
at the hands of a lover.
I could breathe my whole
soul in the hybrid of violet
and yellow blossom, find
myself melting, stroked
by God's graceful touch
and all the love he pours
into the earth.  I quiver in
pleasure at the last notes
of a grey sparrow lingering
in the air like a plaintive
sigh, seal in the well of
my memories the apricot
honey of poppies.

Bobbi Sinha-Morey writes poetry in the morning and at night, always at her leisure.  Her poetry has appeared in a wide variety of places such as Plainsongs, Pirene's Fountain, Helix Magazine, Toasted Cheese, Delphinium, Miller's Pond, and Spirit Fire Review.  Her books of poetry are available at and her work has been nominated for Best of the Net.  She loves aerobics, knitting, reading, and rock hounding with her husband.

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