TENDER BEGINNIGS..
this poem was written for a contest
from a man's viewpoint and has won at least ten awards at Ap

Small confessions
kept masquerading as medicine
while mismatched failures
struggled to free themselves
from the sharp edges
of tender beginnings.

She didn’t bother to ask
but it went
without saying
my lips would eagerly
caress all of her
self inflicted wounds.

 

YOUR MEMORY

edge of light
reflecting your memory

your silhouette
loose wrapped in the clouds’ embrace

down-slant of happier days
where we strolled together
through summer wildflowers

ORIGAMI DREAMS

night sleeps
in the soft signs
of a flimsy origami dream

oh, your shifting silhouette
between this world and that,
whispering my name

I reach for that smile
faint and lost
longing to feel those lips again
on my fingertips...

within the length
of a dream
we find one another again
as a flirtatious moon
moves closer to a drifting star

 

A LITTLE LICK

Eating your bread, how could you think that?
Your faith in me leaves me flat.
The sun's hot heat will make it roast
haven’t you ever heard of toast?

IN THE CURVE OF THE MOON

we stab the wind
with empty promises
dragging tomorrow behind us

the weight of regret
accumulates
in naked epiphanies

we sit on this dangerous edge
of chaos
watching the moon roll
on the stomach of the sky
nudging dim clouds to the hollow
end of the horizon

our guilt, as black as thunder
always surrounds us
always follows us
never turning away

we kneel here
in the moon curves
trying to ignite some forgiveness
WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

IMPATIENT GHOSTS

 

 

the ghosts are impatient
on wet days

they stand outside,
shoulder to shoulder
tracing the words
they wish they had said
in the fog on my window
,,WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

DAYDREAMING ON A SUNNY DAY

Daydreams dance in gold marigold moods
poignant snippets, fluid monologue.
Quaint bluebell morning now alludes
to childhood fantasies draped in fog.

Beyond the window, those daytime chores call
there is always lots of things to do
But sweet the dreams into which I fall
when morning comes with her sky so blue.

To sit and dream yet a little while
following threads of those long lost dreams
All those old adventures make me smile
as I sit and dream under the sun’s beams.

Imagination now fills the day
making me wish I had more time to play.