mornings can be magic.

sunrise paints the sky

with a breath of poetry,

all cantaloupe and mint

and the same misty morning blue

that lives in your eyes

we speak in silent languages,

in wisps and wants,

in feathery clouds that flutter

gently against your skin,

in silent pictures etched

across the landscape of time

we are the dream weavers,

the designers of daybreak

wind-kissed summer souls

on the horizon of your mind

we carry warmth in our bones

(we will thaw your winter heart)

– ashley jane

she is summer.

summer always reminds me of her,

the feel of line dried clean sheets,

the smell of strawberry rhubarb jam

being made in the kitchen

along with fresh bread

and fig cake with pomegranate

i wait by the window for the june rains,

the heat ushering in wistful memories

of the woman who held the solstice in her soul

– ashley jane

i am in love with your light.

i dropped through the gray fog

on a wild flight beyond the edge of night,

and landed in the colors of June

i fell into a bright burn world

raining roses and stardust

i fell into y o u r world,

all spring breeze and a summer love

covered in sunflower petals,

and i was bewitched

i placed my heart in the hands

of a mysterious dreamer

who painted the skies

with orchids and dahlias,

as if you already knew all my favorites,

as if you already knew

how to make me bloom

i have always been shades of shadow,

but you,

you are a kiss of sunshine

you are a light in the darkness

– ashley jane

bliss.

i wake on sheets
as soft as flower petals,
tulips and tiger lilies
pressed against bare skin
the day tastes like
orange blossom and amaretto,
sunbrushed summer
exploding on my tongue
and there is no waiting for love
see,
i prayed for heaven,
and it was delivered,
all warm skin and familiar eyes
and i
am high on the type of serene
that can’t be found in a bottle,
a moonstruck mellow only found
under midnight silver skies
painted by hands that speak
the language of devotion
and together,
we dance under a rain of poetry,
the clouds spilling sonnets
of two lovers
kissed by an ethereal grace
– ashley jane

sunset to sunrise.

i stood beneath a shivering sunset,

wrapped in the soft brutality of its fading light

i listened to the night life heralding the coming stars,

and i remembered all the wishes we’d made

from cold balconies on lonely evenings,

all the promises that were whispered

even though we knew they’d go unkept

we were always experts at predicting endings,

yet somehow,

we couldn’t foresee our own

i stayed there until morning,

on the balcony,

without you this time,

and i watched a peek of color

paint the cityscape in shades of day,

and it was if i were seeing dawn for the first time

i suppose i spent so many sunsets with you

that i’d never noticed how beautiful

sunrises could be

– ashley jane

hidden things.

everyone has secrets

hers are buried in fields

where buttercups weep

because the sun

hasn’t graced their faces

in far too long

everyone has stories

hers bloom along

the lonely river,

beside the winding road,

on a path of stardust

lined in daisies and dandelions

everyone has scars

hers are nestled within

the clouds’ subtle sighs,

softened by the moon’s kisses

and the sky’s embrace

guarded by a touch of magic

everyone has something

they keep hidden away

she just hides hers

with beautiful things

– ashley jane

i am under her spell.

i watched her

waking from hibernation,

neither ghost nor girl

but hovering somewhere in between,

a born wildflower drifting

so i taught her

to dance in rays of sunlight,

to run beneath the rain

and now,

she is anointed with energy,

illuminated from within

she goes up in flames

and emerges with wings

she becomes the magic

that keeps me wild

– ashley jane

dip-dyed prose for darkened skies.

messages
transported by a knot of sparrows
across the spectrum of colors
we ride on the backs of a birdsong
and melt into the fire of tomorrow,
souls ablaze in the flashpoint 
of the words we were too afraid to share
we’re crossing lines and time zones 
as they swim in the northern lights,
staining our pages with wet ink,
infusing chapter and verse
with a myriad of hues,
painting rainbows with poetry

– ashley jane

she sees your truth.

she belongs with the wolves of winter,

a pack of restless souls bound in spirit,

their gypsy hearts beating in sync

with the rise and fall of a mystic moon

they are truth and purity housed behind

a stubborn love and piercing eyes

they are the wildflower warriors,

all brilliant beauty

with the power to see beneath

all the masks you wear

– ashley jane