Tuesday, July 12, 2011

To Kiss The Day

You beckon me thither, o sweet solemn sorrow,
To the abyss of contemplation indeterminate.
Refrain from the constancy
Of your watch
For a brief moment
To kiss the sweetness
Of the day
As it passes unannounced.

All Rights Reserved/Copyright Audrey Howitt 2011

A Dormant Heart

Soften my hard edges
Those that my life has seen fit
To impose upon the veneer of my persona.
Let me lose myself in your smell,
So like that of a meadow after rain’s fall.
Kindle the fire which dormant lies,
Tarnished by daily frustrations.
Lie with me, sweet lover of my soul,
And like the moth,
Let us play with fire.

All Rights Reserved/Copyright Audrey Howitt 2011

Friday, July 8, 2011

A Tear

A single tear spills over into rivulet
   traced by the fearful hand
      of life's less gentle spirits.

A pearlescent stream
   festooning its prismatic hue
     upon cheek downy with love's light.

Do not weep for the weeper
   For the tear though borne of sorrow this day
      has the deepest blue of love
         as its path on cheek and chin.

As this weeper's heart
   finds love's blue light
      mirrored in the silvered heart
         of a

All rights reserved/copyright Audrey Howitt 2011

Grandma's Piano

Arthritic fingers rest gently on keys

recollecting long ago movements

across black and white.

Fingers stretch, knobby knuckles crack.

Brain, with tangled ganglia,

makes fingers move again.

Neuron pathways formed and since forgotten,

light up and dust off some Bach.

For a moment . . .

she remembers who she was.

Chintz curtains filtering sunlight

as she played an old upright in the parlor.

Years of smiles and tears endured,

while some Nazi told her to move or to stay.

She can see me . . .

As bumpy fingers depress keys,

eyes glaze

and she is gone again.


with ganglia which have long since betrayed her,

as Bach does now.

Fingers crank into stillness

until the next time.

All Rights Reserved/Copyright Audrey Howitt 2011

Posted for Poet's United

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Freeway Musician

Pity the poor freeway musician.
When the price of gas
Eats up all the musician’s earnings,
Affordable music disappears,
Along with funding for NPR.

Sunday, July 3, 2011


I dream in numinous mist of cushioned clouds
Resplendent in pinks and oranges.
As the sun leaves them
They blush in their ardor
For the approaching night
With its dark perfume
Is their lover.

Enveloping each one, wrapping it
In darkness
Buoying each
Until the moon’s eye beckons.

And obediently,
They come into silver stream,
By a lover’s touch.

Copyright/All rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2011

Friday, July 1, 2011

Autumn's Fire

I view you not gentle soul.
You hide amidst the tall green rushes
Evading my line of sight.

Press your pale countenance,
Cool, upon my as yet fevered brow
And fill this evening’s gloom
With the glitter of dusky fragrance
That I may recall the lightness
Of an unencumbered morning.

Whisper again to me in verses of
Amber hue the words of sweet love’s lessons
long gone from this heart rent in two.

Mend this mind with the shimmer of vibratoed tones
Sweet upon the ear,
Honeyed upon your breath.

Touch my breast with fingertips enlivened
With the art of Eros--
That this forgotten body
May recall again
The frequency of the formant
Of fire’s fondness within it.

Amen to the heart which bestows such a gift.

All rights reserved/copyright Audrey Howitt 2011