If I could dream those eyes, bright stars! I’d be a Man, again!
(By which, I mean, awake to every need)
If I could sheathe the sword in stone, I’d learn to couch the pen,
And write words that suggest, but never bleed.
If I could muse my way through tomes and find you waiting there,
A better woolgather than any told,
If I could cross to Heaven’s Vale and kneel before your chair,
I’d live again, and never would grow old!
But there are better ways than those I choose to now embrace,
More practical, and sensible are these,
Ensconce within my heart a Rose, and in it, find your face,
And bear it with me always, sign of Peace!
3/17/2019
Categories:
woolgather, appreciation, care, lonely, loss,
Form: Rhyme
As each fatigued day culls my nature
Mine mind does Judas thee
And tinker pon the waves of hope
Muted Banshee
My blighted roots once writhed hitherto
Severed from earths comely breast
Mother natures contempt of me
Fair mumsy, she knows best
(Stark)
I adorn no vibrant leaves
Laird, wooden beast
Plucked till I stood bare
No blightsome shade for sibling seed
From summers wretched glare
(Raving)
With chestnut blight, my ashen crown
Looms remorsefully
And you my wretched parasite
Prefer to pick at me
Not with axe, nor barbarous force
Unjust chipping at my belief
Till I am lost and swathing
In painfilled cumbersome grief
(Mad!)
So whilst the heartwood settles near
And whilst I shed my final tear
Am crushed, lopped rooted out
Be ever headful, covet doubt
That even pon the vilest slope
Within Woolgather
Hush lullaby
Hope x
Categories:
woolgather, hope, nostalgia, , Lullaby,
Form: Free verse
"sizes matter" chirped the hatter before
popping the size 8 and 1/4 on his head
and jumping theatrically into his bed
hat and clothes all snuggled into dreams
"things aren't always what they seem"
he muttered as he drifted slowly to slumber
and counted sheep with irrational numbers
shearing off some wooly fractions
then arising after slumbered satisfaction
to further woolgather a daytime indulgence
about teas and tease, a timely innocence
to tickle his taste buds, two lumps please
though he oft prefers the honey of bees
then he wanders off over knoll and swale
to encounter his comrades and tell a tale
of little girls and deep dark wells
and felines with invisibility spells
and ravens much like a writing desk
riddles without answers, and other mess
that seems to jump from head to mouth
though facing south to tell the truth
to let the sun shine onto his face
he'd stuck with hare in tea time and place
so matter-of-factly exclaims "shall I pour?"
but quickly adds "sizes matter", like before
© Goode Guy 2011-09-14
Categories:
woolgather, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme
Sulphurous moments, shadowed
beneath natures natural defences
Tenderly swaying, the coconut palm
leaves transmute devising my fan blades
Refrigerant elegance appreciated greatly
chilled iridescent cocktails assuage
My acousma heightens as the waves lash
such a lovely sound, to woolgather
To think about your next write, possibly
let us face it, we all do it x
Categories:
woolgather, imagination
Form: Free verse