forsythia shines
where vernal rains launder earth
sudden lightning strikes
Copyright, Faye Lanham Gibson
March 2, 2022
Categories:
lanham, flower, nature, rain, spring,
Form: Haiku
Each one a universe unmapped
beneath a frail façade of skin,
a globe, where the value hides,
not on the surface, but within.
Sometimes glimpses are discerned
on the face or in the eyes,
glimmers of what is transpiring
beneath the thin disguise:
a marvel of complexity,
surprise and mystery,
a mapping of the future,
an encyclopedic history,
lands to explore and conquer,
genetic fortunes to unwind,
a human vista unique and rare
by God's own hand designed.
To traverse emotion's vast terrain
great is the heart's capacity,
but handle with care the souls you meet;
each has its own fragility.
Copyright, December 9, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, emotions, people,
Form: Rhyme
A stormy, cold scraped winter sight,
quiet song birds forsake flight,
down fluffed on pale limbs lucite,
a fantasy landscape, pearl blue.
In grey tone wrap, mist frozen dew,
her smooth complexion, silver hued,
Luna surveys earth's wild retinue
in closed dens of hibernate sleep.
Snow drifts creep the mountain steeps
and cuddle velvet valleys, deep,
where black streamlets forget to leap,
their summer memories iced still.
Winter plys her voluminous skill,
snow sculpting on each vale and hill;
queen portrait of a glass toned will
mirrored in each hardened lake.
She cherishes a world opaque,
makes the sun his warmth forsake;
the seasonal round's numb heartache,
a stormy, cold scraped winter sight.
December 5, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, imagery, seasons, snow, winter,
Form: Rhyme
This baby born in Bethlehem
to intervene in history,
two thousand years His diadem
still glitters gold with mystery.
Birthed in a stable to a maid -
this baby born in Bethlehem -
bound in swaddling, not bright brocade,
of Jesse's root, eternal stem.
Scorned by her doubting countrymen,
how did she walk those eighty miles;
this baby born in Bethlehem
to mother hardly more than child.
Bent low before His manger, stark,
what love gift can I offer Him,
the incense of a burning heart:
this baby born in Bethlehem!
Copyright, November 28, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, christian, christmas, jesus,
Form: Quatern
I wish I knew you way back when!
If life would give a second chance,
would I choose differently then;
take you for partner in life's dance.
But that was long ago, my friend -
I wish I knew you way back when -
we were not us; do not pretend
we each have changed since then - times ten.
The things I faced toughened my skin;
my whole outlook on life evolved,
I wish I knew you way back when;
what if our days on earth revolved.
I smile inside; I would not trade
the life I have, try to begin
again with you this mad parade;
I wish I knew you way back when.
November 24, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, life, love, nostalgia, perspective,
Form: Quatern
They scream a soundless soliloquy,
skeletal sentinels contorted,
once proud standards displaying jubilant banners.
The tidal push rushes in, out, in, out
about ashen bones,
marking where moorings anchored
before life swept away to sea.
Copyright, November 25, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, grief,
Form: Free verse
The sand is swept with gleams of light,
pale moonbeams burst where wavelets crest
about sea turtles seeking nest.
Soft seas are flat and calm tonight
beneath the light of stars; on land
she digs an egg womb out of sand.
Before impending winds take flight
the dawn reveals her scrabbled walk
of mother love; how nature talks.
Sea turtle pounded, stormy plight,
small beach creatures in fright, agape;
the loggerhead cannot escape.
A tropical cyclone's sad blight
has swept her nest and eggs apart;
the beach displays her broken heart.
The sand is swept with gleams of light,
soft seas are flat and calm tonight
before impending winds take flight.
Sea turtle pounded, stormy plight,
a topical cyclone's sad blight.
Copyright, November 18, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, beach, natural disasters, nature,
Form: Rhyme
Light streams manipulate vaporous violin strings
meandering about open casements;
flantando melodies float, dream bridged sighs.
At table, coffee steam rises, knitting the brume,
hooding her sorrow pricked eyes.
Copyright, November 15, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, loneliness, longing, sorrow,
Form: Verse
Book in hand, I find a quiet corner,
pillowed bench in bay window,
inside looking out . . .
or is it outside looking in?
Unread words signal for rescue,
drowning in ink gone liquid
welling up from some salty inner spring,
pressured heart the incessant source.
Weary thoughts wander
outside open windows . . .
soon, feet follow, white and bare,
to chase across dew drenched grasses,
inquisitive masses repressed,
where the moon hangs large and low,
beauty begging to be grasped.
Take me away with you, Luna,
hide me in your dark eclipse
where prying eyes miss
the emptiness surrounding . . .
Urbane wise men say
this will pass,
this aching, animal-burrowing;
I doubt they ever walked this way,
this windowed way,
looking out
or is it looking in?
Copyright, July 1, 2017
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, grief, heartbreak, hurt, loss,
Form: Free verse
You home for a holiday,
belly gorged on favorites,
soft couch cradling like a mother's arms. . .
since you grew up,
shed child skin,
thin facial hair shading jaw,
even when days were tough,
rough making it alone,
you came home on holidays.
Your laughter blending with the chatter,
clatter of dishes, pots, pans,
sisters catching up,
nieces, nephews climbing up
to sit on lap, lie on shoulder.
All got older;
drill sergeant time barking commands,
remands to custody
faces more precious than treasure.
Measure joy?
not mother love for little boy;
let us go on forever
counting jokes and smiles,
beguiled.
Copyright, Faye Lanham Gibson
June 28, 2017
Categories:
lanham, death, memory, son,
Form: Free verse
These rugged hills that fill my soul,
these pinnacles of joy and pain,
the valleys, deep, between them, Lord,
the forests, dim, and sun-swept plains--
come, walk with me, my God, and know
this land, this kingdom of my heart;
you be the monarch; I the slave,
obedient in every part.
I would be Yours; I welcome You;
completely yield all I call mine
and readily submit my will,
all choices to my King resign.
Come rule and resurrect the life
that died in Eden's shameful fall;
plant a new garden where You are
Friend, Savior, and the Lord of all.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, christian, faith, god, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme
I stand looking down a long pathway
that bends in the glimmering green;
what waits of surprise or heartbreak or care
in the days ahead, unforeseen?
Behind me a trail, much longer I know,
than the one this new path unfolds
of days and years, of joys and tears,
each a step on my life's short road.
What lies beyond that twist in the trees
where thick shadows pool murky and dark
like a stagnant pond that traps the night
but reflects not the star's bright spark.
I do not know, I cannot see;
I dare not, though gifted some sight;
it is better to wait for my God knows best
how to blend every nuance of light.
Copyright, April 4, 2017, Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, faith, journey, life, perspective,
Form: Lyric
The hills hold echoes of children at play,
their lingering laughter cupped by the leaves;
sometimes on still evenings I hear their chime,
a whisper of pipes caressing the trees.
In cool shaded dales thick carpets of moss
remember child footsteps of dreams
left by bare feet light as the mists
that float softly above the clear mountain streams.
What if, while walking, I should encounter
my long grown child-self face to face;
how will I answer her questioning gaze,
give account for my run of life's race?
Copyright, April 18, 2017, Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, age, change, child, life,
Form: Quatrain
Cloud layers thin-spun from
crystallized sugar and
colored tints of rainbow-
carnivals hawk the sweet
children love to eat in
crepey layers pressed to
crunchy end, candy treat.
Copyright, August 22, 2016
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, candy, fun, sweet,
Form: Verse
In draining sand I trace the line
the tide has made in bubbles, fine,
where scalloped wavelets sloped in foam,
halt the ocean’s wide roiling roam.
Pale seashells shimmer in bright sun
and tiny crabs sport sideways run;
whitecaps dancing, turquoise to green,
toss at my feet a glossed sea bean.
Solitude, loved quiet and calm,
give to my weary soul sweet balm.
The mornings that I stroll the beach
seem like heaven slips into reach;
I pause to rest on driftwood bench
drink in the sea, my soul thirst quench.
Copyright, August 21, 2016
Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
lanham, sea,
Form: Couplet
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