Short Wraiths Poems

Through virgin blue glass,
alabaster wraiths admire
jade jewels of luster....

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Little thoughts 
like shadows n’ wraiths 
Crisscross vast mindscapes 
under electric fire sky, high...

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Like carrion birds awaiting death,
Whether perched or circling above;
Ruby slippers aren't theirs too partake......

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Sailing clouds ply Nights azure seas
Like brooding wraiths.
By one alone is my heart engloved.
The Beautiful Dawn....

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Red tore down footpath
heartbeat pulsed, steady and strong
wisp of radiance 

10/10/2017

Poetry Contest: Halloween Senryu 
Sponsored by: Laura Loo  
How Many Syllables 5 7 5...

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Acoustic shadows, cast by sound
Whispers in darkness that caper around

Noisy…while silent, 
Distant…hesitant

Wraiths wrapped in velvet
Black shadows abound
...

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Wrapped in death's dark wings,

She was at last as the wraiths ...

Her true family.



** SECOND PLACE in the "Halloween Senryu" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Sponsor. **...

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Fireworks up in the sky I see
Bold colors divided up tee
Winds colored by shadows up high
Memories of yore scribbling scores
Scintillating wraiths of anchors
Stalling, swaddling tight on my thigh....

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whispering of winds
sibilant, susurrations
inspiring insights

braggart's boring boasts
haughty, howlingly hollow
a wisp and a whiff

tintinnabulum
continuously caressed
potent priapic

wet and wheezy whine
old nick now is not so nice
whispering wraiths wait...

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Its’ half past sunset and
The wind really blows cold.
No time left for memories 
And I am truly old.
Gravestones mark the path
That I must traverse.
Every shadow seems ominous and
Wraiths stalk like a curse.
So quickly I travel the distance,
From the gates of the entombed.
After all, what else is left for 
Someone who is doomed....

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When bread
is this good
a morsel

will suffice
and when wine
is this good

a sip is enough
for the wraiths
and specters

coming toward 
the altar now
on crutches

walkers
in wheel chairs
celebrating  

the last Easter 
some of them 
will know 

as they await  
a resurrection
of their own.

 
Donal Mahoney...

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    She is quite the Mistress of the air, synchronize swimming where Eagles dare-stare, no need for landing batons or clearance, she has her own flare.

She wraiths the hapless night and the brilliance of day, rakes the sky, knowing her beauty laid, showcased on big screenery-
rewards God with a show bow and cloud kiss of why His All Knowingness plays, ~The Mistress (proud)

...

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What is left if nothing`s left ?
The tap loses teeth blood
Each empty cup smiles with malice

Our pictures have been torn
Fallen over a fence, we are lost
We trudge like a cluster of wraiths

As we wander over the stones
The old will wither from frost
As the night comes sooner

And if the children cry in the night
There is nothing more to say
Than that the stars are hungry too....

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Magic can never be undone
This is the way
Of stars
Of magic
Of me
My journey with Aquila
Has begun

 
We left that dark wood
Where together
We stood
We fought
The Wraiths’ night
My Aquila
His mighty longbow
That love
Always survives the onslaught

 
To  find a Shadowfire
In the Wraiths’ night
I carried it carefully
It must be given
When the time is right

 
This is the way
Of stars
Magic
Of me...

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A court of shadows dance within
The edges of my sight
And whisper lover's promises
More dark than any night

A feather's touch of moonlight shifts
The taunting wraiths apart
And with a chill caress ignites
A flame within my heart

A twisting void of hunger bids
Me seek the sweetest kiss
Of crimson life to saturate
My soul with fevered bliss

And though the man within me pleads
Unto this path don't stray
The creature urges teasingly
Of me please do I prey...

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Aquila picked my favourite flowers
Wove them in to my hair
I felt his love
Everywhere
 

To feel him
In so many ways
The way we stood
Banishing the Wraiths’ night
In soft amethyst light
In that wood

 
In his heart lay
The words
Of a poet
In his love
A perfect Heartstone 
Shone
I felt it everyday

 
In soft firelight
At the end of our day
I could lie with my head
Upon his chest
Feel the heart beating for me
Knowing always
He loves me completely...

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Winter brims
over bouldered ground
above Rostrevor.
Louring skies meld
blue lough to green forest.
Needling wind keens
through raftered bones,
once homes,
hewn from ancient granite.

Mourne claims her own,
over and over,
defeating generations.
Hasp and staple,
galvanised against the sleekit mist,
defend rude-lintelled doors.

Who comes?
Only ghosts of emigrants,
wraiths of mountainy men
whose quick selves
coaxed poor life
from pale, barren hills
above Rostrevor....

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