It was a great race between Reflection and Essence; running through the mountains and across the lakes of New Hampshire. They crossed the border through Pittsburg into Canada, where only shadows could follow.
Chasing each other or being chased they finished their race in the old City of Quebec; drifting into a boarding house up one flight of stairs— across from the Château Frontenac. And, there on a rooming house mirror— they caught up.
She is the reflection— that is, in essence, what becomes ~A Lady in the mirror~

Reflection’s true Essence? Perhaps what we are like, before we are born.
Photo by RKG: Quebec City, Quebec Canada late 1970’s
Written; 10/30/2017
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Tags: Existenlism, http://omukuvah.org/, http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/, https://dversepoets.com/2017/11/14/street-view/, New Hampshire, Pine Cone Diaries, Relationship, Zen
Whatever day we set aside
At the end of, or, beginning of our week,
Will always be a spiritual— personal day.
Regardless of religion, or non-religion—
Somehow, that day, in our lives, has survived
As One day— to be set aside.
Reflection, repentance, acceptance;
Encouraging us to continue living
In mutual peace— for the rest of future
Day’s— accounting.

Sand Dollar:
Sketch in charcoal.
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Tags: Accounting, http://omukuvah.org/, http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/, Love, Peace, Relationship
Brass, brazen maple leaf, embossed with a very serious face. Buds around you change in every season; green in spring, leaf in summer, then celebrate their passing in bright reds, yellow, and orange. Crackling under my feet, whispering to me; seasons pass and I am looking forward to wintry solitude.
You, my friend, stand against my fence. Never blowing away. Brass and brazen, always in the same place.

A gift from a flea market, many years ago. A gift from my children, placing our imagination, with their love, in an honored presentation, on Father’s Day; of my favorite leaf, one from a maple tree, brass, brazen as could be; never blowing away, always in the same place, as their love continues for me.
Splintered kindling wood
Moss growing moist on north side
Summer serves them well
Written In Center Sandwich NH at Kathleen’s place.
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Tags: Haibun, http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/, Notes Found On The Refrigerator, Relationship
The lawn was mowed. But she,
the dandelion, takes center stage.
The bee’s first nectar of spring,
Bright yellow color and sturdy display;
Stubborn and brave.
Flowering delicate silver seeds
Embraced by the breeze, sends her offsprings
High into the air, without argument, to land in-between
Blades of grass, hiding in the green of night,
To grow in the bright of day.
Not so stubborn and still very brave.
I lean against her slender body,
After dismounting my cricket,
Allowing me her shade.
I tune his wings, as she bends ever so slightly
To listen to our serenade.
Not so stubborn, trustingly brave.
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Tags: http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.se/, Notes Found On The Refrigerator, Relationship
rev:12
Sweet sight!
An Aurora’s light within my lover’s soul;
A spark so bright, roses bloom premature.
Men whisper of their meetings with her.
Those without souls to see… leave in jerking gesture;
As lovers teased in adolescent adventure
Admitting not to be of such high-caliber,
To be in her presence, without hope or future.
Help me my friends, how do I describe her?
Pure, innocent, commissions’ love ever-present.
All are invited. Silence your words,
Those who are willing to lose their minds,
accepting a hearts’ sweet surrender.
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Tags: http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.se/, Notes Found On The Refrigerator, Relationship
“Once upon a time,”… that was enough
To put you to sleep in the strength of my arms.
Let me warm your hands, now, as empty as mine.
(Both scarred with, “when we knew each other
Way back then.” In love and young.
We fought the fire and the ice; both, yours and mine.
…not to burn, nor to freeze, but, to keep us safe from harm).
We’ve seen love
Dressed to be kissed;
Sometimes naked, sometimes, dismissed.
We’ve seen love
Rejecting bliss;
Whether sweet, sour, or completely amiss.
We’ve seen love
Described where only a poets soul
Still perplexed, tries and dies in an effort to surmise.
Oh, perpetual beautiful love!
So elusive cloaked in laughter and in darkness cries.
I had to be the villain; stealing a kiss
With arms extended,
Wrapped in a young corrupt heart;
When you didn’t insist for any other gift,
Embracing the fire of Joan of Arc.
What did I miss?
My shield is torn. My armor weak from worn.
Our victories? Defeats without blessing;
When my actions were wrong.
And my surrender?
You said,
It, would have made me strong.
Kneeling, I await the sword upon my shoulder.
Or, my ride through the gate of aging rusted steel,
Un-knighted, head bowed on a horse as old as I.
We will ride rogue in the kingdom
Of M’Lady’s dream; love lost in my youth,
Having spent its final notice.
Whatever I have learned about love, I have learned from you;
Patience, understanding, perseverance, diligence, loyalty and acceptance.
This lesson, having acted in primal ignorance,
I ask for your forgiveness before I cannot ride again.
I re-approach you, walking my horse.
I, without a sword, and he, without a saddle;
To my empty throne, with only enlightened arms.
Buried under, covered in decaying guilt, in the soil of time lies the treasure of life
I once declined. I shovel up debris, from its burial-place, sifting through the past,
Weeding the dirt for the clue, the space, to plant a bleeding heart.
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Tags: Growing up, http://myblog-lunchbreak.blogspot.com/2014/12/1553.html, http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.se/, Notes Found On The Refrigerator, Relationship