Category Archives: Love poetry

THE GREEN PARROT

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THE GREEN PARROT

PHOTOGRAPHY BY STONY RIVER/AU

PHOTOGRAPHY BY STONY RIVER/AU

He,  a blustering,
extravagant painter.

She,  a sensitive,
flurried-word poet.

Loving and fighting.
Rising to do it all again.

But, brush & quill stilled.

Their passions lingered
long after their passing.

Their fiery  pallet painted
upon the signature wings

of an exotic green parrot.

Its passionate wings but
hot- love  rain forest deep.

Alice Parris

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MY FIRST-LIGHT LOVER

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And…
I wait for my first-light lover.

He is alive with musical vibrations
& lyrical laughter. He draws me past
the night’s cruel maze of darknesses.

His eyes are the color of Cool Gray
His skin is burnished like fine brass.
His voice is harbinger of a new moon.
His smile melts ice-stars; to shed tears.

And…
I wait for my first-light lover.

Waiting…
my feet grow stong like roots & my
legs are hidden by Birds Of Paradise.
He never understands how long I wait;
his days are my endless months, years.
His job is to sprinkle gold-dust on those
with dead-fish eyes, so they can glisten.

My first-light lover
cleverly stole Cupid’s quiver of arrows.
In stealth, he has become the King of Hearts.

And…
I wait for my first-light lover.

He is there in black-obelisk night.
In inhalation & exhalation at noon.
He is there as day disrobes, donning
musty-dusk. He is there as fire flies
seduce sultry, summer eves.  He is there…

at first-light.

 

Alice Parris

 

 

 
 

DRAGONFLY LOVE

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A season
of violent gasping.

The freedom of flight.

The dragonfly’s lifespan
is but brief.

Love, in our times,

is like a dragonfly;
fast, furious and wild.

The ruby eyes of the dragonfly

see only its fleeting passion,
its wings of teal.

The morrow unmourned.
 

 

Alice Parris

 

RIVER’S EDGE

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What shall I say to

the child of my womb?

Shall I tell him that

I cannot run with him

along river’s edge, or

count with him the petals

of an upturned flower?

 

Shall I tell him that I

shall never throw a

baseball his way or

cheer him on to victory?

 

Shall I tell him

that my spirit shall

hover near the river’s edge

while he runs into the

brightness of the sun?

Shall I tell him that I shall

watch from far away for

my image in his child-tears?

 

Alice Parris

SILENCE SPOKE

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SILENCE SPOKE

Now, is this great love
of yours spotted in imperfection.
 
Self-interest trumps the
declaration of your undying love.
 
Love was slashed in the ledger

This rose of yours bore thorns;
bleeding hands dripping rivulets…
 
Silence spoke. That which remained
unsaid was greater than that which spoke.

Sometimes, you can never go back…
I was bathed in great joy for one day.

Alice Parris

Photography by Anna Donovan-poet 

 

PULSE STORM

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The underbelly of caterpillars
yields food for thought. The veins
of leaves became the swelling tendrils
of my ancestors, secured by moisture.
Lightning striking blows of blackened
sorrow. Thunder claps streaking across
orange & purple skies, swollen seas.
Mighty trees felled; throbbing fibers
left aching in the wake of pulse storm.
You came back into my life, pulse storm,
uprooting memories hidden in forests.
Branches sealed by tender touches had
been torn, cast to the ground.
Fushia optics, scarlet-reddened,
invigorated, awakened synapses travel
through time tunnels bringing me here
and now, facing yet another encounter
with the alpha-force of mighty pulse storm.
 
Alice Parris
photography by Paul Thomsen
Concept of title, “Pulse Storm” by Stony River-AU
 

ADONIS IMMORTAL

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                An
                Ancient
                Carving;
                Cushite
                King
                With
                Full
                Lips
                And
                Dove
                Eyes.
                Majestic
                Male
                Beauty
                Carved
                In
                Eternal
                Ebony.

               Alice Parris