Lynette Fletchall
In Season
The forest glen does spot my dear
Upon presence he does make
A spotted deer of graceful doe
And tease a buck doth take.
The flowery shrub of undergrowth
Beholds the passion clear
In clearing way of path to take
My dear draws ever near.
In graceful dancing of desire make
The message ever clear
Thus my beloved undertake
Hearts bosom to his ear.
The pitter patter of my heart
Echo raindrops on the trees
The drops of tears of passion free
Set forth from one as he.
The mating prance of youthful year
Has seen its brittle break
Of branches bound for bitterness
In sweet parting never take.
Today has seen the seaon come
Of joining, as in one.
Sweet dance of mating nature's way
Behold the bounds undone.
Lynette Fletchall
Untitled
Silence
Listen to the silence
Isnt it a beautiful sound
The bubbling brook over the rocks
The bird floating free high above the clouds
Let me rejoin the silence ~ silence is golden
As is my heart in love with the truth
Truth, glorious truth of silence
Where no clamoring of noise
Penetrates the solitude
This little mouse
Scampers back
To its home of
Silence
Lynette Fletchall
The recaptured moment
I feel your sweetness surround me,
And often I am weak with its intensity.
More often than weakness,
Is a silent unaware being
That hushes the rushing water
Dammed behind my welling riverbanks.
My life becomes motionless
Movement of unreal magnitude.
One day becoming another,
Creating a chain of day and nights
With no outward appearance of progress,
Or passing of time.
And then I remember,
Stop.
Breathe.
And that breath becomes you
And I am filled again
With memories of our moments spent.
Spent together in nothingness.
No movement beyond the moment,
Only hushed silence
And freely flowing water of life.
A deep part of me desires to capture
This moment and hold onto it forever,
Riding the waves created by your everlasting love.
But meaningless tasks intrude,
And the wall that keeps me from drowning in you,
Becomes erect again and I function.
Just enough water trickling
To keep the essense of you near.
But how I long for the day
When all that is done,
Is done within the ocean of your love.
Lynette Fletchall
You are to me
You are to me like a rushing river
I cannot jump in for fear of being swept away
I stand at the edge, and watch
Wanting to be quenched in your coolness
Wanting to feel your peace, and be carried
Away, far away to rest along your banks.
You are to me a mountain
So high, difficult to climb
For fear of falling, crashing below
But, how I stand at your feet
And gaze at your beauty
At your wonder, and majesty.
Oh how to me you are like a great wind
Whispering in my ears
And touching me with your breath
I welcome you with my arms wide
And embrace your warmth.
Oh to me you are like the sky
Where I wish to fly amongst
The clouds, and dwell in your greatness
I watch from below, just glimpsing you
Reaching high to touch you.
Oh how to me you are like the small bird
that rests on my shoulder
forever within reach, but so easy to lose
I watch you flutter around me
And feel your wings brush against my soul
You are to me,
Everything
Lynette Fletchall