Solace

Words linger unsaid;

no compulsion to fill space.

They are seen in eyes,

the way the head leans to one side;

half-breaths hang luxurious,

simply for the pleasure of it.

Natural rhythms weave calm;

lull without inflection or solution.

We do not rely on talk;

ours is a contented silence,

not at all awkward.

tk/February 2015

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Shoot

Dusk is recommended

for modest petticoats.

For best light, wait for the sun

to leave its comfort zone.

Capture rhapsody

in more pixels than God.

Press your head against the earth.

Feel the rhythm.

Coax summer percussion.

Join the conga.  Be seen on the street.

Peonies wear long-stemmed heels.

Ants pluck them tom-tom pink.

Look deeper than June,

past chlorophyll and bees.

Stop searching for color.

Think dappled things.

Roses strut runway red.

Shoot them in monochrome.

tk/June 2014


R.A.D. Stainforth steps out of his black and white world for a lovely summer read:  

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Lighthouse

La Jument, photo by Jean Guichard 

Before I open my eyes

I hear the call of waves,

the moan of timber.

I had forgotten there would be gulls,

the innocence of sea air

on my pillow.

It breathes differently, virginal;

never inhaled

by anyone else.

I consider drowning;

I don't cry out

or wave my arms.

There is no anchor;

sighs from my lips and nose

rhythm the stillness.

The keeper stirs;

tends the flame; ensures

a safe and pleasant passage. 

tk/January 2014


Beautiful read by R.A.D. Stainforth ... looking a bit lighthouse keeper-ish ...

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