The Tale below was carved one night,
Upon the Stone, by candlelight
...most won’t believe, but some just might
.........most won’t believe, but some just might
Well James made Beth his lovely bride
(And angels smiled, though teary eyed)
...their bodies bound, their spirits tied
.........their bodies bound, their spirits tied
Upon her hand, a shimmer shone,
As bright as blood, a ruby Stone
...and brighter still, as love had grown
.........and brighter still, as love had grown
Soon James was sent to man a sail
So Beth removed her wedding veil
...her eyes were bright, her face was pale
.........her eyes were bright, her face was pale
“Well, I’ll be here when you return”
Said Beth to James, who kissed in turn
...a kiss that made her body burn
.........a kiss that made her body burn
. BETH’S TALE
1. The Dream
One night, within a dream deformed,
The cawing of a Crow informed
“...a Ship was stripped where winter stormed
.........a Ship was stripped where winter stormed
Midst winds and waves the thunder boomed
The Ship of Death was surely doomed
...the sea engulfed, the sea entombed
.........the sea engulfed, the sea entombed
Your James... denied by Davy Jones!
His spirit gone, his flesh and bones
...are resting now amongst the Stones
.........are resting now amongst the Stones”
2. The Quest
Awoken by the ebon Wight
And beckoned by the baneful bight
...I left before the morning light
.........I left before the morning light
Throughout the realm I rode a roan
Until, in time, I reached the Stone
...where shades and dreams in darkness groan
.........where shades and dreams in darkness groan
While skipping up and down the sky
A missing moonbeam mocked my eye
...enough to make a Swallow cry
.........enough to make a Swallow cry
For someone stole a star or two
And something else that fate withdrew –
...my jewel of joy, my James Bijou
.........my jewel of joy, my James Bijou
The shadows of the evening swelled
Where demons of the dusk had dwelled
...and in the far, a vesper knelled
.........and in the far, a vesper knelled
The Stone, beneath the sky, stood cold –
Between the runes, a vapour strolled
...a cloak of fleecy fog consoled
.........a cloak of fleecy fog consoled
A Raven on a branch, enthroned,
Her wings waved once, a wail intoned
...beyond the bay, a banshee moaned
.........beyond the bay, a banshee moaned
I lay beside the Stone, his bride
I lay beside the Stone and cried
...but were it I, instead, that died
.........but were it I, instead, that died
The rainbow of the moon fell dim
A midnight Swan soon ceased to swim
...as if to hide all hint of him
.........as if to hide all hint of him
Between the willows in the swale
There sang a Bird, a Nightingale
...which left me faint and feeling frail
.........which left me faint and feeling frail
I felt him breathe within a breeze
Responding to my anguished pleas
...and leaves blew by abandoned trees
.........and leaves blew by abandoned trees
“I miss you too, my darling Beth”
Re-echoed from the Ship of Death
...the future buried in a breath
.........the future buried in a breath
The Stone lit up a ruby sheen
And clouds were kindled crystalline
...with consequences, unforeseen
.........with consequences, unforeseen
Above, the wretched Raven soared
To where the Ship of Death lay moored
...beneath, the icy ocean roared
.........beneath, the icy ocean roared
I’m joined with James beneath the Stone,
Though to the Ship my spirit’s flown,
...for nevermore to be alone
.........for nevermore to be alone
That night the wayward winds were weird
The Ship of Death had disappeared
...coyotes called and mortals feared
.........coyotes called and mortals feared
At dusk, the craven shadows crawled
At dawn, the winds of mourning called
...upon the Stone two names were scrawled
.........upon the Stone two names were scrawled
The Raven sits, with wings outspread,
Atop the Stone which shades the dead
...it sometimes shimmers ruby red
.........it sometimes shimmers ruby red
Between the sounds, where silence seeps,
Their love lives on and never sleeps
...and yet, the weeping willow weeps
.........and yet, the weeping willow weeps
inspired by ~fc~
Wight (obsolete): a supernatural being, creature
Bight: a bay or gulf
Swale: a moist depression in a tract of land
There once was a little snowflake
that was beautiful, cold and white
He was created up high within the clouds
during a storm one winters night
There were millions and millions of other flakes
but, no two that look alike
So, every snowflake received a name
and, his given name was Mike
Now as long as the wind was blowing hard
the more Mike hung around
But, it made him large and heavy
For, now he's heading towards the ground
There was Susan, Steven, Jimmy and Kyle
There was Sally, Kim and bill
They all came down together with Mike
as they landed on a sill
Of a cold and frosty window
on that stormy winters night
They gathered all together
as they waited for morning light
The sun then rose above the horizon
it's light...lit up every flake
The colors that came from all Mike's friends
a rainbow it did make
The beautiful snow lit morning
left Mike nowhere else to roam
But, he was happy to be there with all his friends
as he made that sill his home
The winter's been harsh, the winter's been long.
Still it's only march and I can't hear the song.
To have spring fever, you need to be a believer.
This winter's been harsh and this winter's been long.
Shovel's and sneezes are the call of the day.
Please hand me a kleenex, it's two month's until May.
We're out, well I guess I'll just use my sleeve or.
Man if I had my way I certainly wouldn't stay.
White winds wailing where weeds wait wondering.
If the God's will ever restart thier thundering.
Or if they have just slammed down the reciever.
In disgust of all of mankinds plundering.
Faith in the four season's is our only stronghold.
Waiting for the story of sping to still be told.
Hoping the book of knowledge is not a deciever.
Our spirit's are shaken and we dare not be too bold.
For the spring fever contest/ ballad
Peering through plate glass at a puzzling view,
In the midst of hot coffee’s morning ritual brew.
Staring out with amazement and wonderfully struck,
By our Cherry Tree’s overnight sensation run amuck!
By nature’s own standard, cruel joke she has played,
Million blossoms wide open one February day.
This juvenile sapling knows not what it feels,
Sprouting vivid Pink colors, the show it now steals.
From those all around laying dormant in state,
Expecting nature’s cue to blossom their own petals awake.
And by then poor young cherry will have muted her splash,
Replaced by green leaves summer storms will soon thrash.
But alas all this splendor making warm visual sense,
In the short time required for fresh java to dispense.
Tomorrow I’ll once again observe through plate glass,
The wonders waiting just beyond cold winter’s Rye Grass.
Submitted to Giorgio A. V. Contest themed: Impress me with a small poem II!
1) user name: wedge
2) choice of motif: nature
Can’t think about the Year that didn’t last
Can’t fight the time and how it passed so fast…
Voices were cheerful that night
Everyone was full of silver light
I heard the sounds but didn’t care
I couldn’t help but only think and stare…
I dreamed of love that possibly I’ll never share
And of life that was just like a fairytale.
In that second of complete despair
I saw the moon and realized it was all a dare
Then your voice whispered in my ear
Promising me all I needed to hear…
Standing on top
The mountain below
I feel it beckon
A world of snow.
It stretches below me
It pulls at my heart
I can't live without it
Yet we're worlds apart.
Its unending beauty
A place so serene
I want to flow to it
Yet it is a dream.
A dream that I live in
A dream - yet its real
It's part of my make up
It's something I feel.
The calm of the wild
The expanse of just space
The pleasure of feeling
Cold wind in my face.
The knowing I own it
This wide untouched land
And then not to have it
I know I can't stand.
And so I go back to
This place of my dreams
If only in pictures
I am there - so it seems.
It's another Sunday morning
Coffee's drunk and breakfast's down
The kitchen hearth's a bed of coals
And the cat is warm and round
There's dishes in the washer
And the day is gettin' on
It's not exactly coatless
But it seems the wind is gone
So we'll take a walk together
Down the dirt road through the woods
And by the time we get back home again
We'll both be feelin' good
The sun on Sunday mornin'
Is a blessing that we take
To taste Spring air and know we're there
In this heaven that we make
The humming birds are coming
For the days are warmin' up
The coffee pot's not empty yet
I'll just pour another cup
Let frigid winter come,
it feels nice to be lonesome,
seeing myself snuggled up
in a comfort blanket holding a cup
of cocoa by this warm fireplace...
while the wanderer's frozen face
is dotted with the whitest snowflakes
as he rubs his red, freckled nose!
Isn't this an unforgettable moment
to delight me feeling the thrill
of the Season with its distinct chill?
Isn't this the magic of Christmas
when joy is felt in a calm land
by the sound of chiming bells?
Let frigid winter come and cover everything in glistening, deep snow,
and 'though the evening will not have the moon's glow,
brightness can lead my footsteps really far...
shouldn't I play a Christmas song on this guitar?
I will go from house to house and knock on every door...
tingle everyone with great joy by spreading the message of the Savior!
I'm very confident that going back home
stars will gleam and children will roam:
singing, shouting, swirling and throwing heavy snowballs;
happy angels will be heard on gelid gulls,
but who minds waiting in the bitter cold...
when a Divine Child comes down to redeem the sinful world?
Entered in Carol Sunshine Brown's contest,
" Fire And Ice "
Written by Andrew Crisci
on 12/ 3/ 2012
On A cold winter's night, I look out from the comfort of my chair,
Thankful not to be out in that cold winter's air.....
As I hear the wind pounding, this I know,
I'm thankful I'm not out in all that snow.....
I take one more look, and now I think maybe,
I'll crawl into bed, and curl up with my baby!
It was time for the leaves to fall,
The fields to turn white,
The birds to leave for faraway lands-
And the long cold lonely nights.
Seemed like for eternity
She hadn’t had a smile -
Frozen was the world around
Lonely she walked for miles.
Dead were the blossoms in her garden,
And love was about to die-
And yet she prayed to her unseen friend -
For the summer of the winter sky!
Not a song was heard at dawn,
Only the echo of the wind-
In the misty field of corn
Not a farmer was seen!
A wait so long, so painful to bear
Left alone with no one so near
She was lost in her own reverie-
With tears in her dreamy eyes.
And she prayed as her heart cried-
Longing for the summer of the winter sky.
No one knows who heard her prayer
Lost amidst the silence
And yet an early morning bud
Blossomed in her garden!
Suddenly a little sparrow was seen
High on the branch of the willow tree
Singing a song as if to welcome-
Amidst the grey sky, a sun so warm.
And love then again knocked her door
Promising a life like never before-
And like a happy child she opened her eyes
For it was summer for the winter sky!