Red Dragon Fire

I haven’t always seen you…

You’re so adept at flying under the radar.

I suspect you get that from your mom.

I’m so proud of the man you have grown into and I’m a little shocked sometimes at the glimpses I see of myself in your character.

Your flame is constant, steady and often playfully mischievous with a slight hint of underlying sadness.

Perhaps at thirty you’ve already seen and know too much?

Many underestimate you…at their own peril I suspect, and I find that refreshing.

You have surprised me in the best of ways with candor, insight, warmth, and wisdom beyond your years.

I wish you a long life filled with happiness. When life’s struggles find you, I hope they only serve to forge your armor stronger and when faced with your enemies may your red dragon hellfire rain down on and incinerate them accordingly. 😉

©Dani Heart

4-26-2022

(For Jeremy)

Aura of Gold

Strands of wheat fly

In the five o’clock breeze

Flecks of amber and emerald

Delight in nature’s orchestration

Even the sinking sun lingers

to bear witness…

Arm in arm we press forward

Faces flushed, hearts racing

Inside your pocket

Our fingers interlace

And your October smile

Gives autumn’s brilliance

A whole new light

It is here I revel

My path perfectly illuminated

Forever basking in your

Aura of gold

(For Noelle)

Copyright 8/16/2008

Dani Heart

Twilight Memories

Two foot tall Malibu lights flash

intermittently as they slowly come to life,

lighting the way to wood paneled wannabe mansions,

and signaling the end of our daily adventures. 

The last of the hold outs, we huddle beneath them

with our jacket hoods over the top… giggling

and telling spooky stories in our makeshift tent. 

The first call to dinner comes but we ignore it…

knowing full well in ten minutes there will be another.  

We talk excitedly about our upcoming mud ball fight,

our impressive arsenals, and then taunt and laugh

hysterically while imagining each other’s demise. 

Darkness falls as the second call beckons more intently!

If we wait for the third there will be consequences along with it. 

So with sore butts, skin pitted through our clothes

from the gravel, we hop up say our goodbyes and

rush toward home calling out promises for tomorrow. 

With each footfall we push a little harder…

so that when we reach the door it appears as though

we made the effort for that home cooked meal. 

(For Billy)

Copyright 1/20/2011

Dani Heart