Tag: eyes

Once In A Visit

We watched the snow together

frost paned windows,

I could feel your presence,

you told me you wanted more.

I hadn’t ever told you before,

I was afraid I might lose you,

in the balance of a life,

we always make decisions,

impact a lifetime.

I had to be sure,

just wanted to know.

If what we believe true

we might last a lifetime,

traveling paths,

supporting one another,

seems does fly by,

and before we know it,

those moments in eyes,

all turned into sighs.

If We Could Change

What would we be

if we stayed the same,

if our lives didn’t change,

we would certainly wonder

what might be different

what may lay ahead

that we would be

leaving to challenge.

Yet do you ever embrace

what could be a lovely outcome?

What is the looking glass

across the room seeing,

will you know the same

if you step outside,

crystals and glass

follow you.

Or are you creating

new imagery

with your shiny eyes

glancing along a path?

Perhaps we all need to

trust our Looking Glass.

Him, I

She would look at him

see through him

see the blind before his eyes.

Summer day,

people’s way,

and here would arrive

the name of his common place.

He could watch a sunrise in your eyes.

I remember now,

always laughing, bumming,

tobacco in hand

a gesture in kind,

and yet

one afternoon I could not pin down

the look seemed

well like that crucifying moment of

understanding.

I watched this man, this him,

walk through society

with a grin,

and yet something deeper inside

was he watching me or

I, him.


© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

These Are Our Days

We know them

no filter moments

side swept rains tease snow

feel moisture on naked socks

walking the dog

a midnight rendezvous

perhaps routine to some

yet

tonight, today, last year

that calendar date

might, may, will, has, did,

does always, wants forever a return.

Remember once quiet

impassioned plea.

I will always be here, nearby

holding your hand, crossing paths,

nostalgic eyes.


©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020

A Quiet Reality

By the way, look in her eyes,

you will see my own,

a distant wonder denies

the presence of passion sown.

We are all traveling alone,

despite seconds away

we would tell you what we have known,

if only allowed this one day.

The lives of her own discovery

seem rather telling, weeping

personality with little ceremony

yet sweet harmony still is telling.

For there is a silence in all of ur lives

accentuate beauty when love thrives


© Thom Amundsen 12/3/2020

Wanting Relief

Last night I listened to the winds howl in melody

seems they were speaking, warning of a parody.

So quickly our lives, my own, grooves self importance

wanting only to observe, less patience more chance.

 

I speak in my head a constant life of simple romance

that sort that would suggest our lives live in a trance.

The famous writers who could travel in love’s pain

a prowess with words, retelling always the reader’s gain.

 

I wondered how long it might be in this state I remain

whereby my actions would prevent me feeling the rain.

Where simply do we go when the winds to pull us under

An impossibility, our minds will not be want of wander.

 

Last night I listened to the winds howl their melody,

A certain peace is Her vibrant reminder the ready.


© Thom Amundsen 4/2020

Wausau 1979

Try to imagine

where it was,

the moment

inside a memory,

what did the breeze feel like,

certainly there was one,

the glen inside a cove

surrounded in maples and pine,

and short shrifts of sumac

pine needles all across the forest wood

where we as children climbed

only the same tree,

familiar branches,

I sat there last year

he said to her,

as she wondered if or when he might

try to

kiss her

under the oak,

the childhood symbol of growing up,

at least,

understanding that

decades later,

the memory of which

might be less profound

than the immediacy of a heart racing

illusion

of

love,

in the eyes of two thirteen year old children,

holding hands on a public street,

smiles and backpacks and

acne and eyes that searched only for

each other

because

that is what we had been told

that is what we had been told,

is the meaning of love,

in a quiet midwestern town,

where concrete

could easily confuse

the very natural ground

we laid upon years later

with a lover

and smitten eyes.


© Thom Amundsen 2019

Once, In Sunlight

We did

in quiet observation,

attend of course

the eyes

windows that speak

well beyond the notice

of a fashion,

of a trend,

of an expectation.

 

Instead, just a glance

where both pain and joy

can reside,

can wait for the next opportunity

to speak aloud

in the framework

of sweet silence.

 

We are that coincidence

when two people

encounter one another

on a summer’s day,

in the heat,

the passionate embrace

of a spectacular

sunrise.

 

We look for the eyes

accentuate the why


© Thom Amundsen 2019

‘Slowly Melting Snowy Vistas’

IMG_1073

An idea,

a visual reminder

to help find footing

rather than wallow

in what might feel lost,

our lives precious,

imagine only

nature is a cycle

eternal while forever.

 

Once while in wonder

reminded by favor

a slow descent in time

while all around

lives experience

a monotony of time

wishing purpose

witness a warming

allows our lives

to know change

always a measure

the melting horizon

might we seek

a cleansing challenge.

 

When the dial

shall evolve

daylight turns to

a mysterious shroud

where our eyes

opaque shadows

awaits our return

only to discover

with the rising sun

earth has begun

a new journey

again, spectacular

beyond occasion

this is our next day,

a blossoming spring.

 

Purposeful vistas

do slip away,

only to offer

sweet reminders

how along the way

our lives interact

in as magical way

might the landscape

of this mortality

give reason we

can know

the familiar

as well

as confusion

in a continuum

we have not

lost our way.