Só frases

When I was three years old and my father was building our house nothing there yet but a skeleton of studs and empty air, I climbed the ladder to the not yet attic and crawled along a joist just wide enough for infant knees until I was discovered in the centre of a would be home with mortality singing along my skin and a cold concrete basement below. All I had going for me (as usual) was blind optimism and a sense of balance like a bright idea not quite yet lost. Then, somehow, before the darkness found me out, my father was aloft, too scared to shout my name or make me move. I think he almost tripped in fear, a man whose feet could dance through work, while I just smiled, expecting praise and found, instead, a painful price of angry hands that spanked me back into a world of safe and love before the time of further years of higher climbs to narrow beams with legs less sure at every step and darker depths below us all. Autor:Lesley Choyce Titulo:Legend Blog Poema & Versos

It was his only vice, I think for wars were waged at dinnertime. My mother, silent, all of salt, would watch his waving wrists with frowns, his grip around the greywhite glass, his mind intent on holding ground. He seemed not sure of when's enough but peppered plates till seasons flew. At length, he'd sneeze a stormy gust, my mother's face spoke: justice done. She'd cluck her tongue and shake her head, he'd smile and wipe his glasses clean, then truces grew around the meal and love was served its honest share. So warmed by spices hot as this, I simply couldn't help but stare. Autor: Lesley Choyce Titulo:  My Father, Shaking Pepper Blog Poema & Versos

The hand of God has hacked this ship from eaves of ice that roof the world and now it floats in silent strength reminding me of the cold, blind force that shapes our lives and feeds our fears. We row at night in boats to feel the new blue light of moon and ice beneath this cold and ancient dream that wants to test our own beliefs. It almost seems like holiness to stand this small beneath these cliffs, these vaulted walls of winter white. You feel the weight deep down inside like thunder or extinction's calm. Had I the heart I'd climb the sides to meet the moon and leave a harsh and ragged land to float off south to other seas till nothing's left but warmth and waves. Autor: Lesley Choyce Titulo:  April Iceberg off Bragg's Island