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Aurora swirls over icy earth where
her breath casts colors through cold midnight air.
Her gown shimmers a shifting spectral light,
silent and bright through cold Icelandic night.
Frozen fjords, her audience below,
mirror her brilliance in shimmering glow.
Jagged peaks stand witness to fleeting art~
a masterpiece shaped with God’s heart.
To live is to forgive,
To the girl who wears makeup over her vacuum cleaner,
To the shy writer who won the Nobel Prize,
To the growing silence of Icelandic whales and sperm whales,
To live is to forgive, Joseph Kessel, Beatrice,
To the panther-sized dancer,
Who leaves you on Valentine’s Day,
For touching you that you are not the center of the world,
Like Joseph Kessel, nor Edgar Allan Poe or Baudelaire.
To live is to forgive.
Asia is larger than a novel by Joseph Kessel.
Moon goddess of Aurora Borealis
Tidal pull consternates the gods
Mercury in retrograde spins the planet
Celestial passions on parade
Cosmic energy hovers over the mountains
Mystical meanderings make melodic music
Moon goddess oversees Icelandic influences
All is right in the Nordic world tonight
Note: Laura Leiser has been a good friend for several years and was the one who invited me to try Poetry Soup in 2016. She leads a writer's workshop that I am blessed to be a member of, and is a talented poet in many styles, writing of nature, family, faith, whimsical topics and vignettes from life. I hope you can take some time this week to check out some of her poems. Happy Birthday Laura! (June 10th)
Creation is your most beloved theme:
"Icelandic talismans of tales sublime".
So many forms you've written, it would seem
you never lack for metaphor or rhyme.
Your faith in God so strong, with nuance blest
in poems 'giving godly grace' to all.
Heroic crown of sonnets - I'm impressed!
a masterpiece that holds my soul in thrall.
You write of moments from the life you live,
of lovely grandchildren - one girl, one boy.
As you have given freely, so I give
my birthday greeting - may it bring you joy!
So grateful for the heartfelt, warm invite
six years ago that led me to this site.
An overnight flight, I couldn't sleep if I tried
Too excited to see what awaited outside
We stepped off the plane to be covered in rain
For an Icelandic adventure and memories to gain
In a motorhome we went travelling around
Selfoss roaring, geysir erupting from the ground
On golden circle, we stood in two places at once
No time to see it all, we'd have been there for months
Now some whale watching, so we hopped on a boat
A playful humpback was out, so close to our float
So majestic and huge, you'd believe it to see him
Especially after the visiting their phallological museum
An amazing place full of tucked away hotsprings
A small "hot tub" in the mountains, of all things
Cheers with an Einstock and the viking thunderclap
I'll be back one day, but for now, that's a wrap.
Now see a fine display in market hall
Where fishmonger's stalls sell the freshest catch.
A world of wet white tiles and melting ice.
Seafood displayed, arranged in rank and file.
One Scottish salmon commands centre stage
Stretched out upon its own tray of crushed ice
And next to a few Icelandic haddock
Along with cod trawled from the Dogger Bank.
To one side are some plaice all flopped and flat.
Seems they are staring up with fixed focus.
A side display of small fry, placed parallel
And herrings heaped up in sad slump of grey.
Some calamari, tasteless rubbery squid
Are off stage with other seldom sold bits.
In the corner there's offal bin with heads,
Guts, skeletons and several layers of skin.
Take for your cat. Put pence in charity box.
A fine display we see in market hall.
Rat-a-tat-tat, it is the sound of the dreaded, Icelandic Yule Cat.
You have to get me a jacket or shoes or something else I plead
My mother rolls her eyes. That’s a faerie tale, she says. Her face is fat.
Come on! I say, it will eat me up, I will be ripped and bleed.
My father gives me an eye roll that says he does not believe.
Polish, what does he know of this notorious evil Yule Cat that’s near?
My grandmother told me. My chest begins to wail and heave.
Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat. I can hear it and nearly faint with fear
Socks, a headband, a wrist, a shirt, a blouse, something I beg.
I can hear the masticating teeth, and I nearly die with fright.
I would get you jeans, but they will be long and narrow in the leg,
My mother says after a while, then she turns off my night light.
It is Christmas Eve, and I am too afraid to close my eyes.
I should have only asked for clothes, not toys or that autograph.
If she does not keep her promise, I will be one of many who dies.
Rat-a-tat-tat sound comes right up to my ear, hot breath, and a laugh.
Rob the Plumb Bob
True upright, Honest vertical,
Forthright citizen, If criticized, Unfair!,
Assured in Approaching Life's "Hurdle-cal",
Mich's husband devoted, likewise Lucas's Pere,
Spiritual thinker hardly heretical,
Kind, Kind, Kind, never one to scare,
Moral, principled always ethical,
For the NGA, Rob does contractors snare,
Pro at his roles, family & work, nobody's skeptical,
A well travelled road grows no grass...Rob's scalp's losing hair,
Rob's Icelandic blood belies his manner tropical,
Sharing to anyone in need, recipients just stare,
Always generous even when not economical,
Doubt Rob's convictions? Don't you dare!
Ancient Arabians, mother to all
Bloodlines, essence of exquisiteness
Clydesdales, symmetry of strength
Dignity of duty, power of purpose
Ebony elegance, midnight silk
Friesians, crusaders in
Galloping gallantry
Hardy hearts, tiny and tenacious
Icelandic horses, gaited grace over
Jagged soil, volcanic climes
Kaleidoscope diamonds, lissome finesse
Lipizzaners, dancer of moonbeam dreams
Mustang beauty, bred by
Nature, to run in
Open grasslands, their hides
Paints of freedom
Quarter horses, nimble and surefoot across
Ranges unfenced, corralling waves of herds
Sleek strides, sinewy speed
Thoroughbreds, spirits of the wind
Unbridled, they fill all
Valleys and vistas in
Wild wonder; with Alexander and
Xerxes, they conquered the world
You may say these are outside the list
Zebras, to me - the mounts of fairies and myth
2/16/20
white icelandic snow
beneath natural light show ~
emerald green shroud
Written 26 January 2020
For contest Nature themed haiku with color
In Iceland there’s a Willy museum
It’s not huge like an old Colosseum
Filled with all types of willies
It would give me the sillies
But people pay lots of Kroner to see um!
Inspired by a comment Tom Cunnigham made on my Aurora Borealis poem
The museum has many exhibits of the genitals of animals!
1/8/20
A sweep of milky waves flood onyx sands
converging under endless summer skies
of northern lights in iridescent bands
Icelandic talismans of tales sublime.
A glassy sea of crystalline degrees
sustain a mass of icebergs in its pews
that lift their icy eyes in melting pleas
to wrest the dying of their waning hues.
Aurora beams reflect unearthly lights
against tall umber cliffs that stand below
the vivid landscape raises to grand heights
a trippy, tie dyed phosphorescent show.
In seldom witnessed, lonely obscure lands
a sweep of milky waves flood onyx sands.
Written on 5/21/2019
Paddy said to Murphy soon I will be going on holiday,
In fact I am booked to go next Saturday.
Last year I went to New York, Molly got pregnant.
It was a good holiday, glad I went.
Two years ago I visited Old London Town,
Molly got pregnant, really got her down.
Three years ago I visited the cold Icelandic North,
Molly got pregnant, her first babe she brought forth.
This year I am doing things a different way,
So Molly won’t get pregnant, I am having my say.
Murphy said” What are you doing that is different this year?”
Paddy replied” I am taking Molly with me, rather than leave her here.”
Lost World
Wayward ships lost in stormy seas
Oceans of emptiness begging please
Ripples of tides in various degrees
Liquid cooled blue Icelandic freeze
Desperate land watered down trees
Capsized cruise on a beach unknown
Reality sets in now left all alone
Unseen distances of sand and stone
Island so empty with green overtones
Skeleton ship full of broken bones
Embracing life a castaways new home
Written for contest: World Cruise (Acrostic) 10/04/17
WON 3rd PLACE IN CONTEST RESULTS
Polka dot swimming gala is neither a boiled cake or a slow roasted peanut on toast. A rave in a raven tent is a window view on an icelandic island. But language learnt leaves laughing leaf. And a bionic bikini in a wasteland sprawl is neither a synagogue or an icon. Board a boat brilliantly and bring a board of blueberries. Swirling. But no iced top. Not today. There is too much grease to clear. Ok then. We can go for a walk and chat to microscopic flying worms, millipedes and a fruit scone. Fantastic. Wow. Dare to dive in a characterisation of a portrait? Hahaha ingestion of investigation inverted no commas. Hahah bed xxxxx calligraphers that was the p y q reporting on a lid. Z
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