"I feel truth is relatively subjective. My truth need not be your truth. When I hold onto what I believe is truthful, I am honest though another may suspect the verity of my truth"~ By Poet
I am a rough stone rugged,
misshapen and unhewn, hard, asymmetrical, raw and jagged.
If chopped and cut fine, can become a sculpted marvel.
I am neither a genius nor a prodigy or mastermind,
an ordinary woman who can love
and forgive, never letting dark deceit show its ugly head.
Always wishing not to let the truth crumble before lies.
As I try to show a little piece of myself,
I must admit, I have said small lies,
that I couched in honesty's guise.
Now I have earned wisdom to amend my lopsided vision,
to see my faults and rectify them by all means;
leave every pretense and be honest
admit mistakes, feel genuinely sorry and never repeat.
Categories:
unhewn, character, how i feel,
Form: Verse
I hadn't seen you for a year or more
We walked along the country ways
The grass was long and dry, unhewn
The day was warm, the day was cool
As clouds traversed the naked sky
I was trying to enamour myself to you
But couldn't seem to find the right time
How deadly to be just friends
And not really know why
Inertia springs to mind
But then you said, "Oh, look!"
"What?" I said.
"There, down there," you whispered this time.
You pointed to a clump of grass
Much like any other
I moved over and crouched lower
"I can't see anything."
"Are you blind?"
You parted the grass and there
The size of a round coin
Was a harvest mouse.
Oblivious to us it seemed
Its trembling whiskers
Receiving messages from a tiny radio
Its reddish body so fine and fragile
Too soft to touch.
So I have that memory of you
And realise now
Why I miss you so much.
Categories:
unhewn, animal, i love you,
Form: Free verse
My mother's form is in my wings
The Wolf carried me in Rapture
My brother hath flown me in flame
With my sword the beast I slew
I am Sister to the Silver Wheel
I have danced to the twin flutes
The White Moon wiped the fever from my brow
My Father has food for many
His heart high as oak's crown
Have I not heard the waters of home?
The Lady who once was returns
I taught the young beside the eternal flame
I dance on the unhewn stone
How many ways have I had a name?
I am the Healer by the Well
I fought beside a Silver Hand
Sister I am to the Dragon in gold
Loved by the Lady of the Crown of the North Wind
The Isle I have known from the first
I play within the Wizards beard
faeryluna.com
Categories:
unhewn, creation, devotion, earth, fairy,
Form: Dramatic Verse
The ground is hard, the day is long;
The earth unyielding, the spade no prong:
The laborer sweats,
His brow heaves a sigh;
The Heavens shimmer,
Dressed in parched skies.
Dreams are raw, open blisters;
His back near breaks as he twists her.
To carve a Temple
From unhewn Rock,
Flesh needs Defy
Fate's cruel Clock.
Categories:
unhewn, art, fate, nature, work,
Form: Rhyme