Constellations

Maybe the stars are named

But some can find the constellations 

In people - 

The connecting shapes and lights

Of like souls

Drawn together

By an artist's brush.

C. LJ July 2020

Kateryn Parr

How fine, how elegant and fragile

Are the ink lines I make on parchment

My words

Are yet 

Warriors,

Carrying their message over the void.

So too, do I balance my feet along them

With poise

Knowing at any moment my line could

Break.

C. LJ 2020

Anne Boleyn

There was always a ghost 

Following me

I can outwit spectors 

I said, you said

And the shadow seemed to

Fade

Wearing her jewels I walked

Forward, lifting my head

She was no longer behind me

I had become the ghost instead.

C. LJ 2020

Marie Stuart

I see petite porcelain figures

On the chessboard of France

Learning to dance

I take them in my hand

Tiny, refined, lined with gold

Cold crowns

Against my skin

That fades in the torchlight

Of dark, English stones.

C. LJ 2020 

Nature

I walk in 

Nature

Not to explore the 

Outside

But to remember 

Myself.

C. LJ 2020

Bees

My mind is like a hive

Full of bees.

I can't make them sleep,

So I invite them 

With ink

To circle the paper for me.

Then I marvel at the 

Shapes.

C. LJ 2020