I lay my dark and spiraled finger
against pure and corded wildwood,
In the wailing current
of the rich wheels of wilderness,
Before the sonant vesper
of dreaming by a worshiping colt,
Shielded from sheaths of stone
by a tree marked in enfolding moss;
The flashing tongues of rolling air
in fluent, black, and breathing flesh,
Smoking in its morning cloak
of great, weaving draperies of fog:
Steeled ink, lashed still and damp
against the awning jaws of dawn.
And from the deep comes soaring
the melody of waters roaring,
Suspended in elephantine glory,
in masterly paintings of old quarry.
Categories:
vesper, color, dark, dream, horse,
Form: Free verse
She sits in beauty seeking the night
Holding her unborn child tight
Waiting for the day to greet her
Hold her close and secure
Knowing times may be tough
Yet the bond that is growing
Will be enough
To heal some of the wounds
Close some of the holes
As she sits and contemplates her future
A soft smile appears and she whispers
One word......
Vesper.
Categories:
vesper, child, mother,
Form: Free verse
Chores are completed,
and rest opens its arms
to embrace weariness.
Satisfaction and fulfillment
voice approval and encouragement.
Life seems brighter--
illuminated by purpose.
Anxiety is a stranger
and joy my closest friend.
Categories:
vesper, life, stress,
Form: Free verse
dew and vesper in oceanic turbulence ~ mind bobs in bottle
4/8/2018
Categories:
vesper, feelings, missing you,
Form: Monoku
Come, my sweet Vesper,
with your radiance fill this
night-body of mine.
Categories:
vesper, light, love, night, passion,
Form: Senryu
Her eyes, though once bright, are cloudy,
shrunken and fragile the form
that long was brimful of vigor
and a will to outlast life's storms.
She stares past a blank horizon
through a door that I do not know;
the colors she sees are memories,
scents and sounds of the long ago.
A kaleidoscope of faces
turns merry-go-round in her mind;
while trees out her window whisper
soft lullabies long left behind.
The sound of my cheery greeting
draws her back to this metal room,
away from a creaking rocker
and her mama's sweet, gentle croon.
It is not my name she whispers
as I bend down to kiss her cheek,
but a name more dear than ever
mine was is the name that she speaks.
"Papa," the feeble voice quavers.
I am no more a part of her world;
the grandma that soothed my sorrows
is once again Papa's wee girl.
© 1987, Faye Lanham Gibson
Categories:
vesper, age, death, family, farewell,
Form: Narrative
fog fingers the frost
licking, lifting lovingly
vesper of vapor
Categories:
vesper, seasons
Form: Haiku
Star berry soap suds
midnight moon as my witness
River skin shoulders
shivering a quiet cool
lapsing into liquid pools~
Categories:
vesper, happiness, life, time,
Form: Tanka