Judith Vriesema Poems

Without words,
the wind carried my dreams across the bay to Reykjavik where seagulls haunted your dreams.
Without words,
Bach created a symphony of love.
...

I saw you chase the moon one night when snowflakes danced
around a streetlamp on a cobblestone street.
I heard the dream beckon when the wind fell around my footsteps
as I made my way home to Reykjavik.
...

I saw you in my heart long before the last seagull fell asleep to the sound of jazz playing across the sea.
I saw you when dreams took hold of my logic and encircled me into a past I never knew.
I heard you when the snow fell against my window
and played games with my heart.
...

The wind echoes a requiem that is composed by life itself.
One note is a sigh that tumbles and falls in the late afternoon sunlight.
Laughter in a midnight cafe becomes a chorus.
In reykjavik,
...

A whisper echoes in your eyes that are the colour of sky.
In the hollow of the night,
your smile brushes away the snow that falls around my heart.
Outside,
...

when light crosses the sound barrier,
and the sea plays with ever-changing colour;
green and amber waves created from the heart;
the artist finds the weave of the dream.
...

An old chair worn by the wind
stands as a sentinel
guarding love's house,
a house that has long fallen into dream-like quiet ruins.
...

Rain slides down in silver tears against a window
kissing the prisms that bend and refract each note
played
by clouds that hover against the cloth of the sky.
...

Somehow seagulls still survive.
Stroll along the concrete paths
that weave dreams of laughter and sorrow awakening one from restless sleep.
Walk along the Thames,
...

Foxgloves tangle their leaves around bicycle tires,
and shadows draw rivers through windows open to spring.
Cars tear through blue skies,
and stones compose abstract light of driftless air.
...