You can hear the echo of days gone by,
memories linger their silent refrain,
as timeless love long ago still beckons;
come follow me down to Featherbed Lane.
Back to the place where our love first began;
where eyes first locked within our silent gaze,
but we were so young and innocent then,
not knowing these would be the good old days.
For time has a way of turning the tides,
singing songs of regret from shadows past,
encouraging wiser choices to come,
enhancing this life in ways that will last.
I fondly remember Featherbed Lane;
the promises it held for love so true,
memories linger their silent refrain,
as timeless love beckons to me and you.
It only hurts until you cry.
The slammed door quietens,
your baby eyes grow old,
in the dark, where no one sees
or cares.
"Life!" She said,
"You blink and it's still there,
waiting for your next move."
'Keep going!" Say’s the shopkeeper,
of your worn-down wares,
and you wonder is he,
a digitally created memory,
your ancestors sewed,
into your dreams.
The bedpan has been warmed.
A nurse throws up into a toilet bowl.
Father comes back,
catches you singing,
in your boxed-in bedroom.
slams your ears.
with wall-busting words.
"Cut!" The Director shouts.
The camera's keep rolling,
A movie now squats,
in an empty room - waiting,
for more directions.
The hurt has crawled back,
into its featherbed,
where mice still nibble
last year’s leftover straw.
A shadow falls across
the path he’s yet to walk;
like the one that follows;
torments, bedevils, then
all the lightness swallows.
A shadow falls across
his thoughts each day he wakes;
ebbed by evening’s booze,
which blow by blow spawns an
ever darkening bruise.
A shadow falls across
the doorway where he sleeps
on cardboard featherbed;
in dreamless slumber where
there is no road ahead.
A shadow falls across
the folk that see him lie;
walk past without a thought
towards this fallen soul
whose life has come to naught.
The blades of grass, a sea of green
They calm the day and set the scene
The world around me seems to slow
Sedately into grass I go
So in the grass, I lay my head
And daisies like a featherbed
Dancing lightly upon my skin
Thoughts so tranquil with taction thin
A breeze comes by and rustles through
As blades of grass construct a clue
To show the world is still alive
As nature’s rhythm will arrive
And in the grass, I find my peace
With nature's song, a sweet release
The worries of the world depart
Both in the grass and in my heart
Ease is to your own ruin,
to this fight at once,
Life offers no escape,
Fight you must.
No candies or featherbed on your way,
No comfort or ease along your path,
the dagger dangles over the head
like the Sword of Damocles,
why kiss your chains?
You are surrounded already,
death dares your resolves with a threat
to retire to fate is to be a crippled,
quit yourself as men
there is no resting yet,
there is no fence, why seat you still?
like a man fight.
Your foes unrelenting,
be not in bondage to the tyranny of Flesh,
The bait of retreat is attractive,
all cowards take this path.
and write their names in sand,
but the valiant must not.
The eyes to the goal,
Fight, like a man to victory,
With eyes towards the Light
Fight.
On the featherbed of my memories
At your every sigh of vulnerability
And the smile indulgent
With which you wooed me
Is tagged your name
Close to my heart.
Scattered over the turf of my life
And witness to our cozy love
Have been your whispers endless
Quirky, perfumed and indolently sweet
And hip hop I danced
All the way to the moon.
How not to let the heart
Resurface the love I have for you
Even if these souvenirs priceless
Imbued in austerity and tenderness
Have deserted me for all times but now.
My lover is to me a cluster of henna blossoms
from the vineyard of En Gedi.
Song of Songs 1:14 NIV
he is vulnerable
with me.
he is charming, handsome —
his silver hair and bedroom eyes.
i press my nose
into the featherbed of his chest —
the mix of his scent with cologne
his arms encircle me
embrace only me
the ripples of henna
paint a vista
for my love and me —
our song of songs
blossoms
we’ve left youth behind
embracing the divine.
he knows me —
the cluster of our fingers
singularity, our intimate jokes
and home sweet home.
after the sprig of coolness
excites and weaves
into the dendrites and sinews
of our life,
comes the wintergreen crest
of the ocean’s shiver,
climatic and familiar
rock of our houseboat —
survivor of tempests.
j’aime mon mari —
love defies the language
and sound barrier, the dangerous
reefs. communication,
as our pressed together crowns
on downy pillows,
speaks with its own lavender ink.
6/10/2019
===================
Dear Featherbed,
wrap me up warm and tight
Dear Kitty,
keep humming your note just right
Dear Moon,
you keep shining your golden light
and we'll all ride the seas of my dreams tonight....
===================
I'm wondering how far down in this featherbed I can sink
Late December skies are changing from gray to pink
Heavy frost covers winter's lifeless ground
Roosters crowing - the only sound
Christmas is over and I had fun
Love my family, but glad it's done
I feel as stuffed as the Thanksgiving turkey
But want more of mom's home made candy
I think I'll just lay here and snooze all day
But wait......the smell of coffee is drifting this way...:-)
Donna Jones
12-28-2014
In The Moment
I lie on the grass, still green and soft as a featherbed underneath,
lift my eyes upward to the sky and feast on robin's-egg blue and
bleached cotton candy. Mineature butterflies drink the last drops
of nectar from faded blossoms. Tiny yellow wings fan the heated
air while leaves drift to land softly on my skin and spray russet
bubbles through my lazy view. I close my eyes, absorb autumn's
bright notes, relax with heart and soul full of gratitude and peace.
Inspired by a night time view over Dublin city from the Featherbed Mountains.
Standing on the edge of a forest overlooking a night time city,
Like a fallen galaxy trapped between the sea and mountains tall.
Multi-coloured Stars sparkled brightly, beautiful yet cold.
At least that’s how it felt from the darkness of my lofty view.
A whispering forest sigh ran cool fingers through my hair,
As if admiring the shared view while, tolerating my presence.
The creaking wood behind, swayed like a landlocked ocean current,
Pine leaves wafted down, scratching the air as they vainly spun,
Like a child leaving home for the first time, tremulous yet free.
Alone and muted flew a neon eagle, high above the city jewels,
The clouds dissolve and the fallen galaxy reflects on high.
S.de B ............................12thJuly 2012
Featherbed in the sky,
so soft and clean you are.
Such beauty you behold,
oh, sleeping on this bed,
is so fine and tender,
dreams come so easy here.
Floating along the landscape,
I look down at the forest,
below and wonder where
all of my friends went to.
Featherbed so white
and fluffy all around me,
to keep me company
in this silence I share.
wrote 8-14-08
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