What is a dream
But the realization of
serene
wishes and happiness pure
prolonged and decaying
in the mere
cold, sticky and
shimmering blue
Covering
words that spoke of true
Love alive on the hills,
beaten by the winds
and slowly falling asleep
on the wings of winter.
© Iulia Halatz
Art by Emil Orlik, painter, etcher and lithographer born in Prague in 1870.
Love is a time thief
Perched in the tree of gold
adorned with emerald leaves
sparkling of hope in the dark.
Notwithstanding love is one
dimension to the solar knowledge
ingratiating
the strangeness of a country
that isn’t yours.
© Iulia Halatz
Art – “Whispering Eve” by British artist William Gilbert Foster (1855–1906).
Today I am on winter leave
As my soul is too heavy
with all the snowdrops,
violets and perfumes of spring…
Your heart is wondrous
and alone
till you find me
aching for lilies of the valley.
Art by Julius von Klever.
September First
is a burst
of clear touches of blue
and soft winds on dew
in crystal mornings
that warm to silent fires
holding trees in dire
and such lusty love-embrace
that they know no more
of Summer.
I decorate with an August sunset from my collection – one of the most beautiful, caught on the 30th.
Like morning haze
clinging to sycamores
So is my love
Captive in the cave
of swimmers dancing
in the flicker of fires
Casting shadows
of things
that could be…
Art by John Singer Sargent.
I don’t want the summer to end
That is why I try to suspend
My thoughts of winters and grey
Garnering drops of snow and dismay.
I don’t want the summer to end
That is why I am hand in hand
With clouds and planets blue,
Roses and treasures that have no clue
Of corrupt winds and misty reign
In the apocalypse of rain.
I don’t want the summer to end…
Art by Daniel F. Gerhartz.
Love in the time of summer
is like blistering dreams
Starting shivers in the lonely slumber
Daunted in the arms of dead hours
flying like bats
Until dawn.
Art – Alphonse Mucha, The Moon and the Stars, 1902.
He is fairer than Spring,
Wiser than my unread library,
Tenderer than a feather
in the newly-stirred autumn wind.
“I tell you, the more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”
— Vincent Van Gogh
Avenue of poplars in autumn by Vincent van Gogh.
The most difficult thing in life is not loss.
It is to move on after your heart has left your body.
It is to keep breathing with a hole in your chest.
It is living on cold embers whilst being used to taming the fire.
Art by Andrew Ferez.
Nadir = 1.That point of the heavens, or lower hemisphere, directly opposite the zenith; the inferior pole of the horizon; the point of the celestial sphere directly under the place where we stand.
= 2.The lowest point; the time of greatest depression.
“Sometimes the worst brings out the best in you. Sometimes the lowest tide ushers in the biggest change. Sometimes the gravest wounds translate into deepest wisdom. Sometimes the nadir leads you to the zenith. All you need to do is to Hold On.” –Manprit Kaur
Art by Michael Cheval – Sunset Tango.