Toes, dressed against
cold. Still chilled and damp, remind
movement is a must.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Books beg to be read
as their pages whisper,
syllables of loneliness.
“Love me,
as I love the touch of your hands
on my untracked spine.”
“Choose me.
Let me linger in your mind
as slow sipped wine.”
Once the pages open,
words walk through soul.
Hook, to your whole.
Tethering other’s stories
to what makes you,
you.
“Meet me,
in pages of cream,
Through ink dark as dreams.”
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Holes in socks
Speak of walks.
Wrapped in leather,
Tied up tight.
Perspirations staining fright
And the stink.
Holes on soles,
Or heal,
Or toes,
Tell a tale of travelers’ woes.
A mile farther than planned.
Foot sore still,
Bend to paths commands
Pull them off at end of day.
Wash?
Or simply throw away?
One inside the others fold.
Wadded,
Oder controlled.
Dumped upon the bed at last.
Remnants of times now past.
Crusted with old sweat.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Just a bit of fun.
Be it desired.
Is it required?
Can it be comprehended?
Felt beneath the skin
Less experienced?
Does it demand participation?
Accumulation?
Confrontation of facts?
Left raw
Or baked through life
Can it be digested and invested?
Intellectual
Or emotional
A pinch of both extremes
Too lend potency
To empathy
Two parted yet a whole
Understand
how understanding
Demands humility
While standing high and bold.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
(Stephen’s word)
For the Words of Weight project.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Wriggle
It creeps upon the leaf
Tinny furry creature
eat at peace
Then appears a second
A third
to crunch and munch
Soon a hoard of creepers
Making leaves contented lunch
Once a glowing beauty
Stripped
of gilded filigree
Weaving wreathing nests
Across a naked frame
Living drips
Her ravaged beauty
Proclaim
Waiting through the darkness
Chrysalis
of change
Until upon her skeleton
wings they all display
Watch
the bared darling
Don a gown of brown
Trimmed
with greying fur
Moths become her crown
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
In a moment
With a motion
Snapping fingers
Holding time
Hear a song
Slip away
Into a world
Of the sublime
Ask no questions
Of the quiet
In between
The rhythm snap
Let it’s pull
Feed the wonder
Giving answers
Meters map
Comes an ending
To the journey
Settle back
Into the skin
Taking with you
Shards of heaven
Memories
A dreamers inn
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Locked,
in the safety
of grounding touch.
Warmth,
giving knowledge
of another’s life.
Accepted,
despite the flow
of wretched tears.
Sharing,
weights
without a word.
Intimate,
trust given
and received.
Released,
yet held in treasured
memory.
Lingering,
on skin
despite distance.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
(Hug, for my Words of Weight project. John’s word.)
Trembles only felt,
never seen by the world at large
have given roots strength.
©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Mary Grace Writing 