Poem | |
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
Poem | |
The fog is so thick I can not see the sticks, that in a wasted life,
rise off the dirty grave of the forest floor.
There is no beauty that could compare to the sight
of the thick ground clouds, that embrace my morning.
To run through the moisturous blanket into the unseen
and unknown would be a spectacular thrill.
The cool droplet of water stroking my feet, as they are released from
the tall finger grasses. tickle me kindly.
I chase the fog as its spread of mystery begins to rise
and confines back up into the sky.
I reach for the heartbeat of the fog, hoping that surrounding my skin,
with its life, it would carry me away.
I dance with it deeper into the dense woods, where it awakens the pine trees,
with its wet breath.
Higher and higher the fog rises.
I climb a welcoming oak tree,
stretching with its limbs grabbing for the clouds.
Take me away my morning fog, I want to ride this elevator to the sky,
to the heavens, take me away.
The fog disappaites and I am left with misty hands and empty eyes.
I look around clearly, seeing the crispness of nature,
basking in all her beauty
From the heights of this old oak tree,
I realize... I am lost.
Vibrant Verse Contest
Poem | |
In-between sleep and wakefulness,
when my dream still lingers,
entwining free-flown fingers
with the morning rays, dancing across my eyelids.
It is in this state of in-between layers
that my inner-eye blinks its prayers,
and I can move backwards
through all of my many memories
until about the age of three -
the time when my imagination was truly free.
When I was three,
there wasn't one God for me to believe in.
There were thousands of Gods and Goddesses
hiding inside of each and every living thing:
Deities in the woods and wind.
Deities hiding beneath the surface
of our goldfish pond,
water nymphs kissing the feet
of the Lady in the lake.
One of my most vivid memories as a toddler,
was the day I caught a huge, black cricket.
My Father seemed shocked at the size of my catch,
punched holes into the lid of a mason jar
for me to keep the cricket inside of.
He had never seen such an enormous cricket before.
I was so proud.
I remember looking into its mysterious eyes,
believing for some strange reason,
that a loved one, was now inside of this creature.
Such strange thoughts for a three year-old to have.
But at the time, I truly believed in this.
This was sort of my first inner awakening.
My inner-eye was beginning to speye.
The first night with my cricket,
I listened to its hypnotic song,
and realized it sounded similar to the music
that the old Chinese lady listened to, down the street.
This was sort of my second inner awakening.
I didn't know about the Dao back then;
or maybe I just didn't know the labels?
But I did know how I was altering the destiny
of this creature....altering my own being.
The next day, my Father made me release the cricket.
He did not want it to die,
for it was the biggest cricket he had ever seen.
That was still the most proud I had ever been.
Reluctantly, I opened the jar,
waited an eternity for the escape.
That night I swore that I could hear
a distinct "Chiiiiiiirrrrrup" much louder than the rest.
This was sort of my third inner awakening -
my inner-eye, beginning to speye....
....just as I am awakening now,
the morning rays dancing across my eyelids.
Poem | |
I found you again today
On a majestic mountain peak
Your beauty made me breathless
So full of awe I couldn't speak
Yesterday I found you
In the face of an orphaned child
On my knees I touched your cheek
You looked at me and smiled
You were there in the wings of dawn
Kissed me with a gentle breeze
Like a postcard straight from Heaven
A glorious sunrise simply to please
You are found on distant ocean waves
As far as the eye can see
I can't escape your presence
Because I'm finding you in me
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
Contest: Gail's "Finding God"
Poem | |
The body is blunt
Thinking of you
before I awake
Stretching my body
Eyes are closed
Can feel your scent
Gently open my eyes
Feel your aroma
The taste on my lips
As a soft kiss
Your scent fills the room
Thought of you,
makes me awake
You are perfect
Heats my body
Tasting you ... gently
A moment of pleasure
Black morning coffee
A-L Andresen :)
Poem | |
AWAKE ~ IN and OUT ~
Spring arising, before morning light,
I walk under the new epic sun
The aroma of yesterday, gone
Today's the day that will follow tomorrow
I quickly walk a certain walk
Unique is all I can display
Watery eyes staying in the past
While vehicles pass this new generation
Crosses lacking new faith
I stay awake and mend with my fate
Foggy toys, I want to play
I can't keep up with all your kicks
I look, I stare, at the walls
Bright and early, I step on my own dolls
I stay and feel, the way you taught me
Lifeless, and still so full of energy
Mad words, unconscious forces
My sweet needs, now reside inside of you
Mad, sad, and outside the box
You close every door, and keep me away from the root
You only allow me to feel your morning light
Why can't you let me see what's behind the shadows?
Why do you turn on all the lights?
I'm here the way you want me to be
Happy, and merry, for the world to see
This blindness will continue to spot
Unless you wake up first and remove the dot
You gave me the thirst, you once knew
So filthy, so full of ****,
Under these closed freaking door
I'm exposed like the midday sun
You bang my head on the wall,
You killed me in a way that made me feel!
I only answer to your call
In and out a hoop~ like a ball
In me you can not find any real dreams!
Inside me you filled me with a raging scream
I'm in wonder around your air castle
Strange and hung on your mantle
Stepping on a one footed slave
Alert, alert are we!!!
I shake, we kiss, I wake,
I zip, all things into one zipper.
Pounding my hands up against my ears
Crazy, taking a jab upon all jabs
Crazy, you say~ that's me everyday
I'm up and I caress the photo we once had
I lay only staring at you once more
I awake before I sleep
Your promises I keep
In me~ you are also in the deep
My stars change everyday
Waiting for you, to pull the trigger
Still wishing me to be a sun digger
You can't touch or loosen the knots
Together we will day dream our way to the top
I make your nerve system come alive, wide awake
We run into the wind and listen
Quietly in our chamber of thoughts
Near and far, we both nod off
In this daily race, with no face
I caught myself awake,
The day I fell asleep for you.
Poem | |
Across the white sand waters
Meld of teal and turquoise hue,
In sunlight, emerald facets,
In shadow, grays of blue,
First breaking light of heaven,
Tinted sky in tones of shell,
Dancing lights, pearl pink and saffron,
Fleck the bosom of the swell.
On waves of crisper coral
The majestic sun ship sails,
Bright bride aflame in glory
Blushed beneath her misty veils.
Such beauty blinds my vision;
My gaze is downward drawn
To vanilla foam soft swirling
In the footprints of the dawn.
April 16, 2014
Poem | |
I try not to wake him, though he stirs slightly
As I crawl out from the warmth of the covers.
I'm tempted to change my mind, and stay awhile longer,
But a glint of sunlight peeks through the blind and calls to me.
If I burrow down again, and drowse too long,
This glorious time of day will be gone...until it comes again tomorrow.
I tiptoe quietly and begin the morning ritual.
The splashing of water on my face, of letting the dog out,
Of brewing the dark, hot liquid that will help to
Open my eyes and recharge my reluctant brain.
The inviting aroma finally wakes my senses, and after
The first sip, I begin to feel the desire to join the world again.
I go outside, step onto the weathered porch, down the steps,
Onto the wet grass to retrieve today's bundled news.
Within it comes a page-by-page account of disasters, obituaries and comics...
I decide to forego all that gloom, and lay the paper beside the front door.
Instead, I drink in the morning air.
The new day is slowly coming alive. There's a slight chill.
This coolness will be baked away later, when the sun is high.
I pull my robe around me tightly, and sit down on the stoop.
Birds are chirping, and soon, I see that neighbors are beginning to embrace the
House by house, there is evidence that awakening has occurred.
A car is cruising by our house. The occupants, wearing their
Sunday best, and on their way to an early service to praise the Lord.
While some are sitting in pews, singing Alleluia,
A man down the street is starting his lawnmower.
Not mindful that the Sabbath is a day of rest,
Or that he may wake a late sleeper.
Inside my house, I hear the sounds of water running and dishes rattling.
Then someone calling my name. In a moment he appears
Carrying two steaming mugs of black coffee, one for him, and another for me.
He's come to see what this new day has offered, and sits down beside me.
We sit together quietly, and soak up the morning sun.
It wraps its warmth around us, like the bedcovers we had abandoned.
No words are needed to enjoy this moment.
However, toast and jam, and bacon await us. So we turn and go inside.
Poem | |
Good Morning, Starshine
“Good morning, Starshine,” each dawn he would greet
As from feather pillows our eyes would meet
Perhaps you can imagine my surprise
When he was gone when I opened my eyes
Did he forget our anniversary?
Just one year had passed since he’d married me
But as my eyes opened wider that day
I found rose petals upon the bed lay
He’d heard me rising, but he called, “Get back in!”
Bacon’s scent from the kitchen wafted in
In he entered with breakfast on a tray
He retrieved the remote and then pressed “play”
I started to eat, beside me he lay
To watch a film of our wedding day
When I picked up the tea cup, what a shock
There sat a ring with a large diamond rock
Gems were too costly when we got engaged
But seeing this now made my passions rage
Gently my husband always embraced me
But never more than on our first anniversary
* For Francine’s “Good Morning” contest
Poem | |
If you could paint a picture of silence
What color would it be?
Would you use the brush of fog to hush all sound
A shade of gray, with touch of brown,
where eaves are dripping to the ground
and windows weep their quiet tears
Where solitude obscures the view
In a slate of lonely winterlude?
Or would it be a shade of green
A forest deep, of muted breeze
No sound to scatter birds from trees
No broken branches, swaying grasses
Missteps that crackle the fallen leaves
Untouched by clatter, harsh and rude?
Would silence be as black as night
A cave too deep for shards of light
A void within a famished core
A well of dark and empty shores?
Or would silence be of many hues?
A rainbow shade of morning dew
A soft pastel of sun declining?
No bedlam, blast or blare of noise
Could break the spell, a silent voice
As if the soul could slip away....
A hush, immense.....so sweet and keen,
Like ghosts unseen, or angels soft as air...
A silent sea, ....where mountains lend an ear
As clouds pile high, ....and wait to hear...
Only for this: such peace....such bliss
A sound so small, ... as welcome as a sigh