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Donald Meikle Poem
The white charger's belly is bloated with hay
The helmet helm's rusted quite shut
The tack room door hinges are tearing away
The leather's un oiled and dry
The lance is still good
It is bracing the fence
but I traded the sword for a pen
I am presently seeking a page
So if you're still waiting
and anticipating
A Lochinvar ending of sorts
I shall purchase wild oats for the horse
I recall how to sow them of course
With hardly a shred of remorse
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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Donald Meikle Poem
Knee deep in surf
The water clung to her
Changing silk gown
To wrinkled shiny skin
Never had I envied ocean water so
But then t'was I who'd let her go
Drowning in green eyes
With fear of clinging ties
Holding me back
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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Donald Meikle Poem
A part of what you are to me
Knowing you are free to be
apart from me
and yet
I am no longer free
to be alone from thee
so hold my heart my love my soul
for you are all that keeps me whole
Upon this sea of life and storm
I hold your love to light and warm
my every breath
on every turn with you I yearn to be
to hold you close to feel you blink
your breath upon my face
refreshes me as we embrace
and then I sink to deep contented sleep
a well fed cat
in Summer sun
whose furry dreams
have just begun
paws atingle purrs aloud
whisker flicking joy and proud
as only cats can be
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2005
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Donald Meikle Poem
Summer
Sabra
chocolate orange
Singing taste of tupelo mead
memories
still tease and test my thirsty tongue
I stand in chocolate mint
Alone
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2009
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Donald Meikle Poem
old saw
scissored shades of Betsycoed
taste of yester youth's sweet tones
splashing sound of forest water
kissing shining sacred stones
Dreams of swirling druids dancing
in the faery water's rill
flash reflective thoughts of flight
The dragon tears yet spill
The druid hymn of waiting
for greed to die of want
a constant scream of tortured winds
belie the curse of can't
What matters ought to those who fought
and died that I be here
to stand beneath a blazing sky
and gaze upon the Western sea
moments of reflective thought
pondered on expressed and caught
to feed an ever growing need
To dig and rap and plant a seed
That blossoms in another mind
Repeated as the finest kind
to be forever sowing seed
To seed
And time to spend with thee
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2005
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Donald Meikle Poem
The Night Mare dances
Behind eyes of a dreamer
Fretfully on chords
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2007
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Donald Meikle Poem
Feelings
expressed in words of endearment
A cheek stroking breeze on a hot Summer day
Cool of tile floor to walking bare feet
The squeeze of a hand.
A quick little hug
Tentative brushing the hair from your face
Following that with a tender embrace
Hoping you're hearing what I haven't said
and that it's some comfort to you instead
Trying to find words
in your moment of need
Is all I can think of to do
Maybe tomorrow I'll know what to say
I wish I could do it today
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2005
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Donald Meikle Poem
Fish madam?
Price Edwards a Welsh man taught me how to poach eggs fish and rabbits
The recipe for poached eggs is universal
Poached perch is.....Take fillets and cheeks saute in butter with a dash of mead
Poached trout........Wrap in aluminum foil with herbs.. throw in small fire
Poached rabbit.....Debone saute in olive oiland butter...add mushrooms and leek
Poached venison I’ve never tried
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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Donald Meikle Poem
He stood there in the late afternoon rain
Holding his tin and thermus
In coal blackened hands
Hatless as the water ran through his hair
Streaking white tracks down his face
To zebra his cheeks and whiten the nape of his neck
The wet black hair clung flattened to his head
He turned his head up into the soft rain
In moments he was white again
That pale white white that seldom sees the sun
Winter white his mother called it sadly
He wondered what the woods were like
Where she so often went to harvest food
And all those other weeds she boiled or dried
Was it just last week that she had died?
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2007
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Donald Meikle Poem
Tearing gusts of highland winds dim the sound of pipes
No one knows and no one sees and no one sets it right,
Heavy hearted sadness carries, other souls who went ahead,
Ghosts of kindred spirits living now or living dead,
Running through the gorse and heather wishing for a horse to ride,
Disregarding wind and weather, Grim, the reaper by my side.
Places I would rather see.... Home's still where I yearn t' be,
I'll never have you there with me... 'tis lost...
both love
and pride
Jonji ‘s dance within my mind
and well within the ken o’ men
I just prepped the canvas
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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