In bubbles of glass,
amber irises turn grey,
and I find you,
waiting for me,
in the heart of violet flowers,
where shades of purple,
disguise every shadow,
of the deepest colors,
until the light,
is inadvertently,
out of sight,
and all I have left,
are the imaginary sparkles,
of my own loneliness.
All the poems, and writings, on this page belong to Gineke van Keulen! Ask before using! Thank you!
The leaves have fallen,
the rose has withered,
and snowflakes bury it,
in a blanket of ice,
preserving life for the spring.
Teardrops on rose petals,
the past flies away,
on the cold winter wind,
and I learn,
to hope for the spring.
Out of nothing,
new life is born,
when I bring my soul,
to the heart of the light,
where rosebuds are born in the spring,
and petals unfold in the summer.
Rain boots in red,
the same color as her umbrella,
she dances in rain puddles,
to celebrate her joy.
Unhindered and carefree,
the rain is like confetti,
on a beautiful spring day.
Her laughter is contagious,
forcing my lips into a smile,
and my heart flutters,
on wings of love.
Dancing in the rain,
is like skipping on cobblestones,
with your arms spread,
the wind in your hair,
and the sun on your face.
I feel butterflies in my soul,
and for a moment,
one sweet moment,
I forget the world,
and dance,
under my red umbrella!
Calm and chaos,
yin and yang,
darkness and light,
the scale balances,
with the weights,
always on the good side.
An attempt is made,
to bring peace,
to create harmony in our life.
Forever balancing,
on a tight rope,
until we fall,
or until the rope breaks.
Tears fall in laughter,
laughter echoes its tears –
we live in complete oblivion,
to how we really feel.
Still we balance the scale,
either left or right,
and uncontrollable in our power,
we try to control the outcome,
in our short, and precious time.
Calm and chaos,
yin and yang,
darkness and light,
the question is,
do we choose to follow darkness?
Or do we choose to follow light?
My eyelids are heavy,
weighted down by the love,
my heart carries around all day,
for everything that you are.
My hand strikes your skin,
and feels the soft hair on your arms,
until I reach your biceps in awe.
It is not your looks,
my dear Adonis,
that captures me so much.
It is the love in your heart,
that kisses my soul,
until it deeply sighs.
Your soft lips speak,
words of intimate affection,
until the hair on my skin,
stand tall and upright.
It is not lust,
that fills every part of my soul,
but the pure love of your being,
that radiates in the deepest form,
true love can ever take.
It is found in accepting the flaws,
of this rough but striking diamond,
that still has some sharp edges.
It is seeing the beauty,
in something so rare,
that unique cannot define it.
You love every part of me,
as if it the most beautiful,
piece of fine art,
the world has ever seen.
And yet I feel that,
I do not deserve this kind of love,
but with all my heart,
I cannot deny it.
So, I dream in your arms,
of a life I cannot yet see,
and I wait until,
I am brave enough to leave!
Misty mountains,
covered in hues,
of emerald green,
hold thick pine trees,
as a hiding place,
for all kinds of life.
Long waterfalls,
invisible to the eye,
release sound waves,
that calm the mind,
so I locate them,
to feel the soft drops,
on my naked skin.
My soul feels free,
like the birds in the air,
unlimited by borders,
and deep blue oceans,
and I dance,
as the first rays of light,
break the treetops open.
The heart of the earth,
spreads her warmth,
from the inside out,
through my feet,
all the way to my heart,
until my soul radiates,
the light and warmth,
from deep within me.
Misty mountains,
covered in hues,
of emerald green,
have the power,
to silence,
the rush within me,
until every part of my being,
is free.
On a blue vespa in Rome,
the Colosseum stands tall,
in the dim moonlight,
and soft street lanterns.
The cobblestones move,
quickly underneath me,
and I wonder about lives,
that were lost long ago.
Full arenas in awe,
of innocent people,
fighting for their lives,
against hungry lions,
savage warriors,
to maintain the faith,
they hold so close,
to themselves.
I feel the heart,
of a lonely gladiator,
longing for freedom,
in an unjust world,
knowing,
he might never see,
the morning light.
The longing for freedom,
has throughout the centuries,
never changed,
but instead,
simply passed on,
from one human being,
to the next.
And on my vespa,
in the dark streets of Rome,
I wonder,
when we will ever learn,
that for everyone,
the earth is a home,
where we deserve to live,
in absolute freedom!
The voice of my spirit,
carries across the hills,
until a white dove,
brings a fresh branche,
back to me.
Life begins with a call –
a breath in our lungs,
and a song in our hearts,
that changes Mozart’s music,
into Celtic melodies.
Ever-changing,
our footsteps mark the grass,
on the green Scottish hills,
where the sun sets before me,
and I am released to the stars.
But that strong call of my spirit,
will carry me through the ages,
for in the light of God,
the song of my spirit,
Will never stop singing!
Where I lay my focus,
my heart makes a home,
to create,
either peace,
or absolute chaos,
and my world,
becomes like a solar system,
where everything turns,
like the planets,
around one sun,
forgetting that even a Milky Way,
is part of something,
greater than herself!
So, if I want to make a home,
in a place that lasts forever,
I have to lay my focus,
on something greater than myself,
where humility will teach me,
that when I am not in control,
the greatest peace will find me,
right in my own home!
Pink rose buds
covered in raindrops
like diamonds
dressing a woman.
Her bare skin exposed
against the elements
of the current season
waiting for the light
to make her bloom.
She dances on the wind
with her pink dress
swirling on the melodies
of angels singing.
Until one by one
her petals fall
into the hands of God
where love nourishes
them back to life
and growth starts
all over again!
Gineke van Keulen 