There is stillness in this chilly night
How peaceful is a planet that glimmers white
Where frost and moonlight weave a silver glaze
And sillhouetted trees are black as ink
Where the only sign of life are whiffs of breath
Let me stand and drink upon the sky,
Then rest my eyes upon the glory of the world
Upon these strange and unfamiliar hills
I give my thanks for how such soothes my soul
Winter has buried our world in alabaster white
Familiar landmarks wear a cloak of new disguise
Yet still the same are scattered thorny lights
Splattered wildly in the blackness of a sky
Winter has polished up the stars against the dark
Brilliant, new, until their points are thistle sharp
How peaceful is a planet so glimmering white
To stand in voiceless wonder and gaze
Do not speak, the crystal world would shatter
Too fragile to bear the weight of words
Look into my eyes
Follow me into a world of ecstasy
There and only there
Will you find the peace to unwind
Beautiful brown eyes not blue
Shady lids, stunning ocean view
Embracing every word
Hear the wind whispers your name
Come with me
Drown with me
Into the abyss of loving rain
Embrace this moment as I draw you in with words
Release you with the warmth -------I was there
I Share--I take
I LOVE--I HATE
Into my arms
I am the charm
Around your neck
Around your wrist
Listen to the voice from my beating heart
The freedom of touch
The freedom of speech.
Like the wind
I'll find my way
Into your heart
Arouse the cheerful energy
Of your insecurity and pen
Follow me into the sea
There we will fall into the deep
Build sand castles
Around dreams of reality
Slip into my aura light
Set to the rhythm of the oceanic night
Now, listen to the breeze
It's called out your name
It's only a matter of time----------------
You'll find yourself calling out...... mine
Dedicated to all my loving friends & fans :-)
Memories of the North Sea
sift in like sand kernels
on a fast, frigid tide -
events that transpired outside
the confines of rhyme,
instead, unfolding exactly
as they were meant to.
I had never before seen
so many shades of gray.
This monochromatic splendor
within an absence of sunshine
that was perfectly fitting,
instead of being bleak and bleary.
The smell of salt and seaweed
awoke deep within me
something dormant and eternal -
a surging desire to flush
from out of my blood
with an inverted force of pride.
Salty blood and water
coming together in a communion
of distant relations and movements.
A flash of bright red
digging in the sand beside me.
My child is wearing the only
vibrant colour to be seen for many kilometres.
The colour matches
her enthusiasm and energy,
as she moves from one spot to the next
like a dancing flame.
My own fire burns in my eyes.
I had unconsciously dressed
in the same colours of the sky and sea,
blending into the scenery
as a chameleon --
an illusion thicker than clouds,
an illusion of stone
for me to melt and reinvent
at the spinning speed of thought.
I look over at my daughter
who is wearing a wide smile of wonder,
for she has not ever seen the ocean before.
She can see the chameleon
walking alongside her in the frothy surf.
Together, we collect shiny stones and shells,
our pants rolled-up to the knee
as we wade through waves.
I wonder if people onshore
can only see a solitary dash of red out here,
or if the chameleon is more
noticeable than I had thought,
while we watch sea-birds
cover the steep cliffs
in a blanket of black and white feathers.
~(2012 North Sea Remix)~
Tossed upon blank beaches
like men without souls,
shell fragments littering the sand.
Each broken shell once could sing
lyrics lilting of glories past,
tales spun in Dresden colors,
soft, shimmering memories -
blissful days beneath shining seas.
In broken men who walk the earth,
vignettes I view . . .
shattered beauty every one.
August 3, 2014
Hand in hand
Sandy beach with beautiful sunset
What could be more romantic than
when the sun is glowing red and orange
melts into the sea somewhere
And two who are in love and goes hand in hand
A small box
On his knees in the wet sand beach
Will you be mine
She blushes as the sunset
Smiles her lovely smile
Yes, I would
The sun melts into the sea somewhere
But for a couple in love, the night is still young
A-L Andresen :)
("mix poem" )
Silent in its violence, the sun
lays its ancient fire hand on the heat-scoured
concrete of the promenade,
the boxy seafront chalets tilting and creaking at angles,
the scorched, salt-stiffened gardens,
sand dunes, the screaming blue sea.
It is so difficult to accept a loss, a deprivation.
Innocence flaps its winding sheet behind me,
its mummy cloth of myth.
As from an isolated moon I see
the first cold breaker rush to engulf me:
an underwater undulance,
undercurrents of menace, of malice.
The sand-strewn strand stretches into infinity,
shimmering with the visions, the voices, the echoes,
the faceless departments of government and society.
I watch the insouciant people around me,
they possess a flatness, like blank paper.
They hump and lug plastic picnic paraphernalia,
ridiculously, all beach grime and blistered backs,
reduced to a red cindery glow.
Ice creams, scooped from the freezers
in trinkety seashore shops,
are clutched in sunburned hands.
They are spreading striped sunbathing mats,
snide and smiling slyly.
Is it a mirage, a delusion,
plucked from the desert-dry air?
The air snags in my throat: the flat summer stench
of warm wood, sun lotion, billowing cotton -
blank but expansive; the creaking, the flapping.
A strange wind howls and banters in my ear.
And the train shrieks through its station -
the station of my brain -
a riddled red abyss, poker-hot.
The sun is sinking:
a disc of fire, a blood clot.
Water floods the ridgy shallows,
eddying into treacherous pits.
The black gun muzzle of my mouth
flays the oxygen from the air.
My nerves a hive of wires suffering
the scarlet atrocities.
Pokers put out my eyes.
Squeezed by the forceps of agony
I see nothing, nothing
but a mirage of wavering dunes closing in
and the sea splintering; a multitude of glass glittering.
the indelible scent of ecstasy filled their auras
with the fragrance of lovemaking spent and
aroused passion anxious to be tasted then
devoured…skin forged on skin…a magical collaboration
of need satisfying need…moments when love
takes you far beyond reality…no limits…
no borders…nothing refused… your physical surrender
a mere formality as flesh seeks flesh…
frolicking taste-buds unlocking rivers of dreams whose
surge simply washes away the pain of loveless
droughts past …in a heartbeat forever forgotten
all resistance simply ripped away as
flame licks ice as if it were candy… mouths drawn to loins
scented by eucalyptus that once inhaled becomes
unforgettable and forevermore addictive as
the taste of warm summer honey cloaks the soul
the strength of passion is found in its gentleness
the luxury of being touched so deeply…so intimately
your soul is turned inside out…eager to respond
the relentless tongue victoriously plays hide and seek
as a master…once found you beg for the mercy of more
you are never the same again…ever…as if a thirsty
sea lay within your soul and its tide is forever restless
paradise found …over and over…emptiness abandoned
as if a decree by the gods of love…two scents becoming
one..the air you breathe forever shared…the promise of
forever scratched on your skin as if you were a trophy
Irish ST PADDY'S DAY 2010
The crunch of snow under trudging feet
A breath of white, a darkened sky
Eyes near closed from sting of cold
She dreams of summer days
With each small step, that leaves it's mark
Upon the white
In dreamy state, where daydreams play
From cold, away from chill, from ice upon the hills..
Her thoughts, they bide, for summer days,
and dreams that take the cold away
She finds herself so far away, a place
Where weeping willows brush her face
Bending 'neath the branches low
While walking on a garden's path
Grass gently sways, green as glass
So timid blows the warming breeze,
It fetches shining hair with ease
The wisps of gold which fly astray,
Like meadow flowers, in yellow maize
A melody of larks that sing
An amber sun, a basking glow, that ambles by
To warm a face so pale from winter's sunless sky
Until once more the breath of chill upon a cheek
And snowflake on her lash
Startles cold, like morning ash, returning eyes to winter's cry
A cold north wind that catches scarf
A thief that snatches warmth away, and thus her dream
And now awake, she sighs, ...to find it still,... the winter day
Yet distantly, there lies in wait, a springtime place, a promised fate
A path beneath the willow tree, where sun peeks through the velvet haze
Where flowers bloom and meadows grow, and larks sing lovely lullabies
The earth will wake, new walks to take.. and be, not a dream...
But a day to praise
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Submitted for Constance's "A Walk to Remember" contest....
...like two pieces of wood,
adrift and worn through time,
passing like ships in the night,
each on a different path
but destined to meet,
somewhere in time.
...like the sky, wet kissing the ocean
with winded breath, lusting
over the crest's of calmer seas
as it fills itself with the moon
in the high-tide romance
of un-chartered depths,
awaiting to connect the stars
fill the void's of night,
and awake, refreshed
to the rise of the sun's blush
together in destiny.
Cocooned in orange plush, obscenely safe,
in false cinematic twilight,
light leaping out of nowhere,
dizzying the frozen yet titillated onlooker.
The popcorn-crunching crowd have eaten myth.
your seaweed ropes -
drowned umbilicals -
attach you to the seabed's vast placenta.
Your rusticles drape you like a sleeping shroud.
The knife-edge of your bow; the knife plunged into mud.
A spherical light fixture sprouts a sea pen,
snaky-fingered: a poignant Medusa.
A high-button shoe rests close by.
White ocean crockery, ghost porcelain -
appurtenances of a sunken pelagian people.
Your silt bed, more than two miles below,
private even now,
refuses to yield its virgin treasure still.
A valedictory message, torn from a pocket calendar,
forced into a cold clasping hand -
a desperate flutter of paper.
Strobe, a marine rapist, raking the ocean floor;
invasion of the depths below.
Your one-way virgin voyage, inescapable.
The night was a still pool of indigo.
The berg glided silently by,
lethal as a shark's fin, with terrible finality.
The pinprick stars - flowers of light -
averted their eyes respectfully.