Saturday, August 22, 2009

shh! it's a secret =] (at least till monday)
Current mood: fascinated

The Way You Love Me
By: Amelia Rose Heer

For Sherise and David Penry

We, you and I, are so dissimilar
So many different ways of thinking
On every variety of subject
And yet somehow, someway
We have been brought
To share a lifetime, an eternity
Of love and joy
We are so dissimilar, and yet
We see so many things
The same;

The same,
The way your eyes look into mine
Probing, searching
Searching for my love, my tenderness reflecting back to you.
The way your warmth touches me
In each and every
The way our laughter rings through the house that is ours
The way you hold me during the raging tempests outside
The way you kiss me after each and every prayer together
The way your hands bless me in times of illness, distress
The way you wipe away my tears, making sure I’m never lonely
The way you tease me, and then tell me I’m your Only

In the ways that you love me
We are the same
And I am so glad
That the moments we treasure
Will last not only for this lifetime
But now and forever.

Current mood: weird

wanting to write...
not knowing what to say.
Idk. I'm just very tired.
I want to write about happiness; joy.
But I'm too tired right now.
Perhaps I'll come back to it another day
When my spirits may employ
Maybe then I'll know how
To express what I'm feeling
In the right, proper way

For now,
maybe I'll just fall asleep watching a movie.
Will you watch it with me?

Friday, August 14, 2009

Failure to sleep....[again]

Just make it go away.
Let me drift, let me dream.
Let me sink into unconsciousness
And get some...respite.

Inevitable it seems
As hard as I try
To resist, to be strong

Overwhelms me
Irritating, Persistent
I cant...escape.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Yet another sleepless night...
Current mood: Awake

Enduring the Infinite
By: Amelia Rose
[for me, myself & shaw]

Spinning under me
Like clouds swirling in a storm.
Colliding, heaping, amalgamating
One event on top of another
Each day dragging on
And yet gone in an instant
Swallowed up in the week
That holds each precious moment
Within the limitless bounds of eternity

Too much? Too little?
How can one tell?
One moment filled with light and faith
The next clogged by a dark torpor; of
Matter; confusion. Desires.
Spanning out forever
With me, just a tiny speck
On a plane of the universe
In which I live.
Me, weak little thing that I am
Wanting to be strong
Hoping to shine bright
And's all so much more complicated
Than we ever could have known

Compassing the ages
Reaching past the mind
Embracing the soul, forever.
Love; everlasting, unconditional
Crossing matter, time and space
Transcending theory, reason and thought
Delighting those who receive and give
Confounding those who seek to understand
Love comes
In so many different forms, expressions
And yet is as infinite as time
As endless as space
As constant as the sun;
Always there, even if the afternoon's a little hazy
Always there, even if the world's turned its back on it
Always there, ready to rise when the cock calls for it

Then there's...

Careening down a raging river
Holding on, just barely
As time, space, love
Thought, feeling, duty
Trust, faith, hope
Swell in and out like the tides
Onto the shores of my sentience
So many emotions, all swirling in a haze
Incomprehensible, opaque, yet still,
Racing by, lightning fast--Racing
Like my heart.

[a single secret]

Monday, August 3, 2009

Amelia Rose

It had been over a year since the lady’s disappointment with the gentleman; she had not seen him since that dreadful evening. Less than a month after his confession to the lady, it had come out to the public that he was not heir to the estate he was tending; that his patron had died and the true heir was come to take his rightful property. While upon this news, the family was quite relieved that their daughter hadn’t followed through with the match, it did not affect her view of the situation. She was quite as upset as before; perhaps even more so. It was not his lack of fortune that bothered her, however.
The news had given the lady twice a reason to question the gentleman’s character, namely his integrity. In all their conversations he had never mentioned that he was not heir to the meager estate, nor that he was betrothed and she now wondered as to the veracity of the latter. He well may have been trying to cover up his lack of fortune, which irritated the lady greatly. She had believed him to be of a higher mind than to be so conscious of wealth and l’argent. Furthermore, to believe that she was of such a mind revealed how little he had known her character.
Days, weeks passed and it was known that the gentleman had fled the area presumably for shame. The loving sisters tried their best to console their dear sister, but she would have none of it. In time the remonstrance felt by the lady toward the gentleman melted into a dull ache in the back of her heart. She missed his smile, his easy, genteel manner. She missed their walks in Le Parc, his thoughtful surprises, those twilit moments alone when the stars twinkled brightest…
And yet, no news was to be had of his return. Each morn she woke, spirit alit with hope; just a sighting, his name, even word of a relative would satisfy her! Yet each day drudged on with nothing of the sort; each night she struggled for sleep, tossing and turning relentlessly upon her lit.
The parrot hardly ever squawked anymore.
Time wore on and eventually it was required of the lady to accept that the gentleman was no longer a central part of her life. That the only place she might acknowledge nostalgia for him was in the subconscious of her stolen heart. Several months had now passed and the lady withdrew into les dessins.
She would draw and paint for hours on end; sometimes gentle scenes of lilacs and lilies, sometimes shocking portraits of terror and havoc. The quality of her artwork enhanced at an exceedingly astonishing and marvelous rate. Almost overnight she rose from not-quite-obscurity (her father was after all a highly respected statesman) to high personal acclaim from nobles, neighbors and friends.
Her art traveled far and wide across the countryside earning her a reputation of distinction and renown. This report was made known to the Baroness LaReine. A woman of finesse and accomplishment herself, the world knew the baroness as a very fond patron of les arts. Her expertise centered in la musique, nevertheless she determined to meet this young lady of whom she had heard so much praise and adoration.
An invitation was sent and the baroness, having no reason to dwell on the matter, proceeded to other issues. Imagine the shock of a lady of such high importance and esteem when several days later, a messenger returned with a letter from the lady most graciously declining the engagement. In a fury of shock and outrage the baroness determined never to waste another idle thought on the insolent woman.
Nevertheless she could not go a day without hearing of this new drawing for Sir John, or that recent painting of Mrs. Smith. Ultimately the curiosity of the baroness won out, and as soon as such a woman might conquer her pride, the baroness personally called on the maison.
Much to the surprise of the baroness, the lady received the visit with quiet kindness and soft humility. Well had Madame LaReine expected arrogance and a proud sort of air from an one so highly distinguished. Contrary to these expectations, the lady showed every grace of nature a dignified woman must possess. In time the lady excused herself and resumed her work. More than once, the baroness felt the need to reassure herself in subtle whispers to the family of the veracity of the lady’s identity.
In response to her wonderment, the baroness was ushered into a studio room cluttered with sketches and half-finished pieces of marvelous talent. The sisters of the lady, not so oblivious as she to the magnanimity of their visitor, left the baroness alone to muse and admire. Aside from the paintings only a drawing table and the chair occupied the room. With the exception of one cabinet. After taking quite a time to view the lady’s collection, the baroness noticed this cabinet which appeared to be locked. Upon inspection, however, from a proud and nosy noble, the lock was proved to be broken and the inside of the cabinet revealed nothing extraordinary.
A single piece of neatly folded parchment lay at the bottom. Curiosity battled with propriety for a short time before the baroness gave in and eagerly grasped the parchment. Listening hard for sounds of warning, the woman carefully unfolded the parchment, revealing a most unexpected, yet stunning array of color and detail. The drawing depicted a representation of a statue the baroness recognized as having seen while entering the front gates of the manor. On the statue, a man rode horseback with no bridle, nor stirrups to guide his way. In the drawing, the man’s hair blew as freely as the horse’s mane underneath a sparkling azure sky. It seemed to the baroness as if she could feel the wind as it whipped bright autumn leaves across a wild, unbeaten prairie toward which man and animal fearlessly ventured.
The baroness gazed for several minutes at the dazzling piece of artwork and wondered how such unrestrained beauty could be hidden away in a cabinet rather than on display in an elegant manor.
She did not have time to wonder long, however before she heard footsteps in the corridor. The baroness hastily folded the drawing and placed it back into the cabinet, making her way to the opposite corner of the room.
The sisters entered and, after receiving the highest praise and admiration for their sister’s work, led their distinguished guest down the hall. The baroness returned to her mansion that night with decided interest in the disconcertingly modest lady and her divinely bewitching art.

Friday, July 31, 2009

Singing to You
By: Amelia Rose
[For Matt 6:34]

Singing to you
From a distant shore
a different time
another land
Listen to my song
feel as it is carried away by the breeze
and is brought, directly
to your heart.

You feel it, don’t you?

Listen well, you’ll hear it
Rustling in the leaves
Rippling in the river
Humming from the crickets in their mighty symphonies
Listen, feel and look
As my song
twinkles in the light
of the stars that shine on both of us;
A melody just for you
Connecting us; reminding
That we are not so far apart, you and I

Listen to my song
I sing it just for you
Listen well, you’ll hear it
It echoes of my spirit
Listen well, you’ll find it
In the rainbow’s colors
In the firefly’s eyes
In the rose’s petals
And then, even closer… ♥

…you feel it, don’t you.