Crushed Violets

This poem was inspired by a quote I was sent today – ” Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”




Her perfect heel,

So smooth and soft,

Is scented with the petals,

She treads upon.

For on her chosen path,

She thinks not of the,

Violets delicate perfume,

Trailing in her wake.

The Whirlwind Girl



I’m continual movement.

Sweeping up people and things,

Into my happy, wild, whirlwind life.

Some fall by the side,

Few make it past the sparkling surface.

Beyond my careful presentation,

My slight of hand,

To the eye of the storm.

To see me.

The real me.

While all else spins around us,

I stand bare before them,

And my insecurity is crushing.

Winter Love

The blue of snow laden skies,
Ringed with denim blue.
How many hours had she stared into them?
The eyes that first pulled her in.
She did the smiling for them both now.
The blue hid behind lashes.
Dark fingers against ice flesh.
The only words they shared,
Were razor sharp.
She wished she could control,
Her love.

This week, the Three Word Wednesday’s prompt words were flesh, razor and control.