venture past steep clay hills to situate the honeycombed vale
with hands swaying beneath green satin cloaks in our banana patch
fingers yellow varnished by a tropical sun will set sail
bunches bound for markets in towns we've known, before monkey gangs snatch
Misty moonlighting red Queen
Biting into apple of the eyes
Drinking from the well of light.
A thousand whispers silently into one dream
eclipsing lunar pearl glowing faraway bright
In satin darkness within velvet touches teardrops
Blessings forever born in a distant horizon ivory white speaks
Angel of mercy joined together our reflections spin
Out of this world onto another
Cotton weaving Web shadows silver
kissing the night spotlight
Blessed with hope
Resurrection of a soul
Into one candlelight we dance
cheek to cheek forever
embraced with honeycombed affections
deep beautiful warm delight
I had become less watchful
in this honeycombed body,
blind behind a thousand windows;
windows boarded up, abandoned,
not disused but closed off,
the way a hive becomes blind
one window at a time.
It is the slow drowning of long winter
that opens fusty shutters.
for now is the 'becoming' time,
a time for the winching resurrection
of awakening trees,
of honey-suckling days.
I have windows and behind each one
there is a lively hum and light,
and golden eyes polished bright.
Some float,
move on the diameter of a whim.
A few articulate between joy and grief,
others are hinged
so that ears can hear each other.
Most are scaffolds.
One hollow bone hums in the throat,
it channels the smoky music
of sub-conscious saxophones.
A few are honeycombed for memory
and procreation.
One is a cave for old mind-muddles,
it has a window view.
All the others
are flesh garbed trombones
that slide in and out
to unlock our whoopee cushions
with their skeleton keys.
© a day ago
I unloved you for years.
We became friends in a dream - in your dream.
My actual life, awake or sleeping,
loved the way we plundered the flesh
of a hundred shared passions, the way we exchanged erotica
like unisex garments.
I am honeycombed, riddled by all those unloved times,
yet I love them, and you now. We were ghosts
in blind eyes, obsessed with crippling raptures.
Love was a promenade roadkill, now its specter binds me
to old love songs never sung.
Bring green barges for the winching,
heft a portage of willowy thrones
for the wind thrummers,
gild each gap with dewy vines.
A droning in the leaf shelters,
all the humming skimmers
grown beyond their husks.
Gather the garner to be had
sift and share.
Time to haul-in Lady flaxen hair
her goldenrods dancing.
We have windows, behind them
volant dragons glitter
and whisk.
We see her serpent forms
in the airy whim.
We have lashes on ox-eye buds,
honeycombed fodder
in the silky sap,
tidings leap,
utter bright on every tongue.
It is the rivering. The Spring awakening
and the rioters are weaving sunlight
everywhere.
I have a passion to hold a lamp aloft,
to capture one acre of starshine
before the sun writes a new dawn.
Rusting Chevys bloom in the half-light.
Nightjars depart on shadow wings.
Shimmering’s walk toward my window
on silver slippers.
A native mildness calls me out
to the green hollows
where poppies cling to secrets.
I’ve a yen to lean like a greening barn
that’s honeycombed with sky.
The dew bathes, hills run with deer.
The woods hold aloft their nocturnal dreams
while the sky turns those to mist
I am invited to be kin,
to the verdigris of millstones,
to the mist and blood
of feuding legends,
to the weather-worn
secluded places
where dirt roads end
and life proclaims
its right to be free.
A droning time with its honeycombed eyes;
lives grown beyond their husks.
Bring green barges for the winching of the awakening,
portage willowy thrones to the wind thrummers,
gild each gap with a dewy wine.
Time to pull up the lady with the golden hair,
wash the water's with her amber and
blood-stones.
We have windows and behind them
volant dragons whisk goldenrods.
We have windows in ox-eye buds.
We see her serpentine hair swim
in the airy whim.
It is a droning time, a glut and glutch
on every glistening tongue.
It is a rivering.
A wondrous spirit of true love now softly murmurs its echo
On the wings of God’s angels, as they ascend heavenward.
This and more occurs as radiant cultured pearls begin dancing
Their magical-mystical dance deliciously in the oceans deep.
With this, the bright-blue-mirrored waves of the oceans move
In a melodious tempo of love with the pearls as they dance.
Caressing the heavenly sparkles rippling deep in the oceans’ waves,
An enchanted diamond-cut glass now trembles and shatters loudly!
At this moment, a mermaid of angelic pulchritude takes her divine
Throne as the mystical dance continues throughout the late night.
Crystal chimes begin sounding pure with a fire and fury of emotions
Within our hearts, as they excite our passions palpably and exquisitely!
The candlelight’s effulgent reflection in this moment transfixes me true,
By your warm and loving touch and the magic of your presence with me.
Coloring and scenting the air surpasses all others as the breathless and
Honeycombed eminence of your being touches the depths of my soul!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – July 21, 2018
Conquering new territories climbing up the stairway
new beginnings hanging on the edge of a dream
an empire arises from dark ashes flash petals catch one gem
Through honeycombed dewdrops softly spinning clear
golden the sparkle upon your tabernacle silken touch
vision of deep beauty shines immaculate heart
Beholding rose gold sparkles
sugar coating light dazzling before the eyes
crystal sparks ignite rainbow gleams
Through a mist of tears travelling one picture
everything shrinks in your shadow perfect
sunbeams warmly come alive
Touching clouds dancing with teardrops
falling over an angel salted from the ocean
seagulls lament faraway distant overseas calls
(Unrhymed Tercet)
As the morning sun
smiles warmly with colour
upon you my love
It's all around embraced within a circle
kissing each and every single breath
inside jumping heartbeats pop
A moonbeam enters softly embraced
your the light of destiny kissed
beautiful rose shining gold gift wrapped
Amazing with the dewdrops
your sparkle dwells in the heart
guiding this soul lovingly home
I can see heaven in your eyes
where chocolate melts like carmel
into heartbeats golden honeycombed
unrhymed tercets
Conquering new territories climbing up the stairway
new beginnings hanging on the edge of a dream
an empire arises from dark ashes flash petals catch one gem
Through honeycombed dewdrops softly spinning
golden the sparkle upon your tabernacle silken touch
vision of deep beauty shines immaculate heart
Beholding rose gold sparkles crown
sugar coating light dazzling before the eyes
crystal sparks ignite rainbow gleams
Through a mist of tears travelling one picture
everything shrinks in your shadow perfect
sunbeams warmly come alive
Touching clouds dancing with teardrops
falling over an angel salted from the ocean
seagulls lament faraway distant overseas calls
(Unrhymed Tercet)
HOLLYWOOD DREAMER...
Mesmeric pursuits consumed
all his energies:
leaving him only frustrations
to nourish his mangled pride.
Magic dreams
that once fueled his being
slowly decayed
into infectious nightmares:
leaving him to loathe
the coming of each dawn.
Each dawn gradually revealing
naked realities of eroded dreams:
Hollywood's honeycombed
hollow hopes.
It was one lazy afternoon
laying in the hammock
under the azure sky
sheltered from the blistering sun
by the canopy of the old oak tree
chru chru chru
warbles from the Bluebird
can be heard
as she calls for her mate
Closing my eyes
I soar, I soar so high
above the tallest branch
floating free
gliding in the wind
travelling towards the perfumed breezes of pansy fields
watching their velveteen petals sway
like her hips when she dances in the stream
watching their alluring moves
attracting the pollinator
with seducing aromas
Almost tasting the sweetened nectar
soft and smooth like her honeycombed hair
pleasing like her sun-kissed skin
which keeps taunting my dreams
with ephimeral wishes
of untamed adventures
with her.
a tranquil meadow
dons a velvet lupine cloak...
bees swarm in dark clouds
vast fields honeycombed
with flora and rabbit holes...
hawks swoop down for prey
By Carrie Richards......For Russell Sivey's Contest: Two Worlds Colliding
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