Promises, Promises

Promises, Promises

Promises of a pink morning sky,
a resplendent sun breaking dawn.
White clouds of hope rise up so high
we are born, we live and pass on.

Some promises never come true
when hardship and sadness abound.
A tall pile of bills overdue,
teardrops falling upon the ground.

Promises of husband and wife
tempered with blessings and sorrow.
A curve in the circle of life,
a winding path for tomorrow.

Few promises are meant to last,
even when made with great renown.
When deception and lies are cast,
strong foundations come tumbling down.

Promises are safest in my dreams,
drifiting free in the galaxy.
Riding high on errant moonbeams,
finding peace for eternity.

Colleen  Keller Breuning © 202
April 22, 2023

Happy Saturday, all! I hope you are having a great weekend so far. I was a little rushed to write this, and for some reason had a hard time making this poem come together. I just started pondering on the meaning of promises throughout my life, or the different promises others may experience. How I have kept my end of a promise and been badly burned at times, or how promises just sort of erode without intention or malice. I’ve grown older, maybe a bit wiser and all I can say is “C’est la vie.” That’s life.

My week has been busy, but a good kind of busy. At my accounting firm YHB, we celebrated the April 18 tax deadline at a local Winchester brewery. It was a lovely early evening, spent raising a toast to good work done, and another tax season behind us. The rest of the week has been a flourish of activities, and I spent yesterday trading in my car (a process which I absolutely hate – anyone out there feel the same)?

Today was fun, we had a spur of the moment Girl’s Day! I went thrifting with my sister Sarah and her girls Cami and Quinn. We drove into Leesburg to buy vinyl at Dig Records, then had a quick lunch at Puccio’s Deli across the street. It was pouring, so we decided to head back to Purcellville and hit a few more thrift stores. In additional to some great $3, $5 and $8 albums, I snagged a new side desk for my home office, a cool pair of antique iron floor candleholders, and a silverplated scalloped serving plate. We had such a great time.

All the rain today was very needed, but it is making me sleepy, so I’m planning to curl up with a glass of wine in front of the tv soon. I hope you have a wonderful weekend!


Mood: Wistful
Inspiration: “I Promise” by Radiohead

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 42.14 Topic: Promises, Promises
Hard Bonus: Incorporate a line or lyric from “The Lion King” movie or musical (The Circle of Life)

Easy Bonus: Include a pile of bills

Waiting For Spring (A Villanelle)


Waiting For Spring (A Villanelle)

Sweet sentient beings of the sky

Rustling about in the hedgerow,

Waiting for spring… to dream, to fly.


A cool wind whispers as clouds roll by,

Telling tales they already know,

Sweet sentient beings of the sky.


Heed the call of the lonely magpie

Through the valley, soft voices echo,

Waiting for spring… to dream, to fly.


Cardinals flock and chickadees cry,

Seeking comfort in haven of snow,

Sweet sentient beings of the sky.


Dancers in the wings, crows go awry,

Stirring up horses in a meadow

Waiting for spring… to dream, to fly.


Rest little ones, morning is nigh.

The stars will guide you as you go.

Sweet sentient beings of the sky,

Waiting for spring… to dream, to fly.


Colleen Keller Breuning © 2015

January 7, 2015


The Raisonneur

The Raisonneur
Photo Courtesy Google Images © 2015












The Raisonneur

Ah, distinctly I remember
It was in the bleak December.
The cold north winds would not abate,
The raisonneur of my life’s fate.

Dark night gave way to morning light,
A winter wonderland of white
Perched lightly on my iron gate,
The raisonneur of my life’s fate.

She turned to me, spoke in hushed tones
Said I must kneel and weep alone.
A thousand years I lie in wait,
The raisonneur of my life’s fate.

Ah distinctly I remember
The raisonneur of my life’s fate.

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2015
December 30, 2015

The Nestlings

The Nestling

Photo by Colleen Breuning © 2015

The Nestlings (A Quatern)

When Monday mornings come around,
The air is filled with precious sounds.
Pitter patter of tiny feet
Upon the deck, tasting sweet treats.

The scent of lilacs spins me round
When Monday mornings come around.
Endless summer in cloudless skies,
See the sparkle in clear brown eyes.

I long to touch you, soft and new,
Your tender feathers tinged with dew.
When Monday mornings come around,
The wonders of nature abound.

Soon silence screams above the din
As melancholy closes in.
My heartbeat echoes without sound
When Monday morning comes around.

Colleen Keller Breuning
August 4, 2015