Silver Water

You are with me every step,
Every dream I carry you.
What could have been,
What would I have been?

You left,
That sweet handsome man.
That happy long ago man,
You left.

Too bad, never been sad,
Always sad, too bad,
For me, I missed you.
Always, I’ve wondered. Yes.

I wish I could of known you.
Think I would of liked you.
Think you would have liked me too!

She knew I was like you.
Never did she talk of you.
I’m like you, just like you.
Why do they stop talking?

They surrender to the tragedy,
It hurts them too much.
Their love gone away, far away,
Taken before their end of time.

Out on the blue, the spray of life,
The boat takes us out, it’s rib boards.
So sturdy all planked out,
Traveling forward while we rest.

Into the blue we see,
Every tomorrow, the look of
A deeper cut, our sorrow.
Does it last beyond the hook?

Your chest and hands, fishing.
I don’t mourn, I smile.
As I’m here, I’m amazed.
My destiny on the boat,
Is driving me, I’m yours.

She was there to teach me, very well.
Yes, she did, every summer.
Just like you, she taught me too!

I heard you danced like no tomorrow.
I heard you played with joy in your heart.
You, you made me smile.

Then you left high in the mountain,
Like many chasing a dream.
I can not be sad, ever.
You left high on a mountain.

I wish I could have known you.
Think I would have loved you,
Think you would have loved me too!

Sister knew you, loved you so much.
Mommy held her, grieved so much.
And I forever found their immense love,
To be my sadness …

As I drew my breath,
Born grieving
I sigh.
For I am solace,
That little solace,
Me.

By gardenlilie
~in response to Victoria for Father’s alive and dead.

~The silver water @ sunsets past in the cove of paradise is reminiscent of death. For it shines and makes known what I did not know. Me
~Happy Fathers Day

Montaluce Winery

Jun10

Seven of us found our way to the vineyard and ordered lunch. Beautiful skies with green vines everywhere transported us to California in our minds, but our bodies remained in North Georgia. Of course we had a wonderful time, note all the glasses on the table. Enjoy the pictures as they speak for themselves. I even took a shoe photo, it’s lovely and surrounded by Italian leather and patterns.

My dear friend Ann~

The kitchen~

The luncheon~

The vines~

Le sigh from the young one~

Ann’s mother from Norway~

My reserve red~

A select tea for the Mrs.~

My friend Liz, we share a special bond~

Le Bleu bottles~

Garden iron works~

Stairway to heaven, rather the ballroom …

I promised you SHOES!

By gardenlilie
~my photos
A trip to the winery with the ladies … We ate BLT’s with fried green tomatoes on ciabatta bread, snacked on cheeses from around the world with pepper jelly and I skipped dessert, still working on that 30#. Hope you enjoyed a quick trip to North Georgia, we did!

For You

Jun2

My little heir turned, looked back and waved,
Her sweet smile burned in my memory, saved.

The truck rolled along, going farther out of site.
I’d have to hear her song in the morning light.

Grandma, you don’t have to wait for me,
I’ll play for you, please come and you’ll see.
I’m so good, I keep a beat, it’s my treat,
And you don’t have to smell my feet!

I’ll do this itty bitty little diddy just for you,
I swear it’s got no bad words, no fighting, too,
Just sweet words and notes from my flute.
That’s how I’ll do it grandma, listen to my pretty toot!

Do Do Do, la la do da, la la do da.
He hummed and sang out a little tune,
He looked for his grade school off white flute.

But the song tonight would be still, completely moot.
Cross, disappointed, no light to bask in ….
A sorrowful little boy, perplexed, settled for a story.

The old truck came home with winning smiles,
Tales of applause, roses, ribbons; the pair did share.

Oh Grandma, you should have been there.
Grandma clued Mary in, she should know.

Follow me, in the morning, follow me to,
Big willow, down by the river moor.
I found his flute so he needn’t be sore.

Grandpa woke up first, packed a breakfast basket.
Little Johnny came runnin’ in, get up! get up!

What’s up my precious sweet? She asked.
I’m going to play for you, my band and I.

Come, come through the lavender fields,
Down to the river where big willow sways.
I’ll be there to play for you, just for you.

Grandma, you don’t have to wait for me,
I’ll play for you, please come, you’ll see.
I’m so good, I keep a beat, it’s my treat,
You don’t have to smell my feet.

I’ll do this itty bitty little diddly just for you.
I swear it’s got no bad words, no fighting too.
I play for you sweet words and notes from my flute.
That’s how I’ll do it grandma, listen to my pretty toot!

By Caroline Clemens
For gardenlilie blog
Pic credit Wikipedia images/Lavender
#FWF Kellie Elmore blog

My Sweet Pea

May25

Why not drop my window, yes, I will.
Let me float along, feel this thrill.
You should put your window down and
Join me in this, please don’t frown.

Yeah, yeah, we are so free, yeah, I definitely see.
Baby, my sweet pea, yes I said, my sweet pea.

Where are we going to go, do you know?
You don’t know, then let me tell you.

Cause I’m so happy, so happy when I’m free, you tell me.
It’s okay if I don’t know because I trust you, my sweet pea.

I don’t need to climb those mountains;
Let me just sit here and smell your scent.
You smile at me and I feel heaven sent.
Wait that’s you, you are heaven sent.

Baby, I love your scent.
My sweet pea, please give to me.
You, you, you are meant for me.

I feel alive, just sitting here, when we are so very near.
Cause I can tell you are so close, I see what you see.
Please love me, please love me.

This feels good, so heaven sent.
My hand flies away, even from me.
You won’t fly away; please don’t fly away.

My sweet purple scent, say you love me, too,
Do you love me too?

My sweet pea, lovely girl, you are for me,
Please love me too, do you love me too?

I love you, my lovely girl, so heaven sent.
You take me, with you, Oh Henry
My sweet pea, how lovely.

Oh Henry, watch me close
I’ve gone set my self on fire with this wind.
Can you see, there’s no stopping me?
What will you do my sweet pea?

Come with me down this road, I don’t know where I’m going,
Funny now, I’ll play awhile, you can too, don’t look back.

This feels so good, so heaven sent, I see what you see.
Please love me, please love me.

By Caroline Clemens
~fragrant sweet pea song~
gif pic credit/tumblr by Kellie Elmore.com
~per gardenlilie.com

French Blue

May5

Archive | July 2012
French Blue
Jul14
photo by Julie Anne Workman

French blue, a color so true
Full of promise and hope
Ye shall see this as I say.

Power me to be free to
Want not but love and do
You see her glory, written so true?

The accordion plays on and on
Wanting love, expecting no less
For it’s beauty shines and sings.

Patient and blue longs for it’s rendezvous
Again romance found a door, smiles let go,
Sighs give relief, pardon adieu!

No sadness seen in a city of light
Many hours to make things right
Love, yes, ignites without fight.

Notes of song bring rhythm
Two by two, feelings join the rhyme
Blue, the hue, pour me a cup.
Grapes divine, sings freedoms song.

~~~

mwah!! by gardenlilie
By now you know, I’m a hopeless romantic.
google pic credit
This entry was posted on July 14, 2012 and tagged french blue, love, romance.

~I’m re-posting this lovely poem I wrote about love and romance, in the city of Paris. French Bleu, a novel I finished in November is also based in Paris and like the poem is a contemporary story.
I will be away for a short while as I continue this story. I absolutely love poetry and will return upon completion of this endeavor. Thank you for reading, please enjoy! Caroline

Monet

Mar24

photography credit to: http://travelspirit333.com/2013/03/23/lovin-lebanon-ohio/

Another time, another place,
I’d gather in the garden.

We’d speak of letters written,
How time is short, our thoughts numerous.

He’d sip, I’d sip, share despair,
Our obsessions by the yard, on and on,
A solitaire, mindful existence; intriguing.

Realism … defined, perception expressed,
Monet the artist, romanticism and freedom.

We’d share the wine, I’d ask the ??
He’d tell me about independence, his struggle
To be himself, absorbed in context.

Camille and many femmes …
Paint me, paint me, to see what you see,
That would brighten and open my eyes.

We would sit, for a bit, touch glass
Toasting art in the garden, relaxed.

Then we’d take the train, 1877
And jump right into the station.

And go to the sea, where I would see
The colors and expressions in his impressions.

But I shall never forget the time
My note card exposed, the magpie;
My endearment for my artistic angel.
Lovingly bestowed upon my lovely,
Naturally, like art.

Then we would walk along the Seine
Puffs of his smoke I might catch,
As he would talk of finer points and prisms.

We’d cross the bridge and he’d tell of
The waterlilies, a motif or flower aquarium.

I’d want to know how he kept going,
Amidst an exhaustive, endless piece?

Painting is what I do, I do this with peace.
As war ignites, I paint early and long,
I give for France, as my contribution.

We walk the bridge over a vast lily pond,
And end at a cafe where his friends join in.
I hear some wide eyed stories
Never told and I am enlightened.

by Caroline Clemens
for dVerse poets pub
‘who, when and where I’d have a cup with’

Monet, by Robert Gordon and Andrew Forge, Abradale Press, Harvey Abrams, Inc. Publishers, New York, 1989.

~Happy Saint Patrick’s Day~

Mar17

Northern Ireland by Wikipedia Commons

Green

The green grandeur soars
Above the mighty, cool blue.

Her blades of inexperience
Not bothered by an ocean true.

Pounding waves and eddies
Paint white washed murals on rocks.

Leaving gilded tapestries of green
And musical myriads of mystic locks.

The obliquity of the mineral gods
Heeds wisdom and strength of time.

Yet, today I seek the charm of
A St. Patty’s limitless, limerick rhyme!

By Caroline Clemens
Cheers and may you have four leaf clovers, pots of gold and leprechaun luck!

The following video is beautiful; fire, dancing and a violin played by Lindsay Stirling, titled Elements, that will sing to your heart. Enjoy …

	gardenlilie on Silver Water
	gardenlilie on Silver Water
	gardenlilie on Silver Water
	gardenlilie on Silver Water
	ayala on Silver Water

gardenlilie

A Poetry blog for my … 'freedom of expression'