High Expectations

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High Expectations

High in the sky
I sit and spy
I see a unicorn
floating by
as a rabbit
comes to play
they spin
and swirl
and move away.

High in the sky
I sit and spy
only eagles
soaring by
acrobatics
muscular wings
they dip
and dive
and my heart sings.

High in the sky
I sit and spy
expectations
running high
coming here
seeking peace
I feel the planet
loving me
a sweet release.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for the prompt “Rising Above” and linked with Poets United. With everything going crazy in this world today it’s good to find somewhere to reconnect with nature, to renew ourselves.

Photo found on a Google search: Preikestolen or Prekestolen is a famous tourist attraction in the municipality of Forsand in Rogaland county, Norway. Preikestolen is a steep cliff which rises 604 metres above the Lysefjorden.

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The Lost Masterpiece

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The Lost Masterpiece

An artist surveys the picturesque scene below
picking up his brush he hesitates;

The night sky above was glorious
he’d never seen so many colors of blue
dotted with light billowy clouds
covered by a never-ending Milky Way.

A sleepy town lay in the valley
nestled between mountain peaks
joined by meadows of yellow flowers
a small sliver of moon watching over all.

The bell in the church steeple rang out
when all was quiet, an owl asked; “Who? Who?”
The artist didn’t know
his canvas as blank as his mind.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

This poem was written for a Magpie photo prompt in 2014. Shared here for the first time from Picturesque Words and linked with my friends at Poets United.

Spare The Air

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Spare The Air

It’s lunch hour in San Francisco on a foggy day. The sun tries to shed some light on the subject burning through the layers of car exhaust and jet streams from the nearby airport. The rush hour is in full force as drivers slowly move in lines like ants on the various freeways trying to free themselves of their cars. The local news station warns residents that it’s a Spare The Air Day.

Seated on a park bench near the bay munching on a sandwich the view is amazing. The yellow, orange and crimson streaks of color in the sky are beautiful. The sun is weaving in and out of the cloud layer making the afternoon light look magical. Without some pollution, the colors would never be quite like that. I am reminded of how a little smog can still be admired and enjoyed.

noon sun shimmers
a bayside Kodachrome moment
spare the air lunch hour

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photography by +Woojin Yu follow his work on Google+.

A haibun written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. In California, a Spare The Air Day is when the air is still and polluted to the point that making fires in fireplaces, burning garbage and other things that could add to the problem are prohibited until further notice. This is because we have very strict pollution laws. Although this picture looks like total pollution it’s mostly fog which we have a lot here. Despite my words, California has some of the best air in the US because most of our pollution goes down to the central valley.

Vanishing Act

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Vanishing Act

She could never keep her feet on the ground
she preferred her head above the clouds
daydreams taking her far away
leaving the cruel world behind
to others, just an empty shell
but on the inside…

She could never understand her fate
born free only to become enslaved
told when and how to feel
how to act and what to do and say
a second class citizen with a womb
expected to be a selfless caretaker of others
as if one job that pays less than a man isn’t enough.

She could never find peace in vacations
everywhere she went was the same
people controlling and questioning
lines of strangers greedy and pushing
draining her money and energy
not that any amount could unshackle her.

She could never breakout of her prison
returning to a home that wasn’t hers
“things” that belonged more than she did
a life she couldn’t bear for another instant
the heavy weight of it took her breath away
her heart crushed like so much stardust.

She could never commit suicide
despite her unhappiness with it all
so enthralled by the heavens that night
she made a decision to travel once more
plucking the evening star to wear in her hair
she decorated her robe with the milky way
wearing the rings of Saturn as her crown
a sliver of moon topped her scepter
finally, all the universe was hers alone.

Daydreams taking her far away
never, never to return.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015/2017

An old poem reworked with my animation from Magpie Tales and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. This is about women and some of the thoughts we may share about being born a woman in a man’s world. Some of us may dream of vanishing but we all know that there’s more to life. Going crazy (or suicide) is not the answer but I feel for the women who can’t deal and hope they find the help they need.

Flying

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Flying

Flying
where am I?

I am traveling by your side
the sun acting as our guide
my emotions burning bright
like a scarlet sunset might
I felt lost behind this face
’till we leaped into this space
the clouds parted ways for me
now my vision’s clear, I see.

Flying
where am I?

Together
now we fly.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written with Saturdays Image Write.