Tags
Winter’s last gasps
As it tries in vain to stay
Shedding white in spastic throes
Refusing to give up just yet
As it attempts to blanket
All signs of springtime
Knowing
It will fail
Once more
27 Tuesday Mar 2018
Posted Free Verse, Nature, Poetry, seasons
inTags
Winter’s last gasps
As it tries in vain to stay
Shedding white in spastic throes
Refusing to give up just yet
As it attempts to blanket
All signs of springtime
Knowing
It will fail
Once more
27 Tuesday Mar 2018
Posted Free Verse, Nature, Poetry, seasons
inSo Winter and Spring
they danced up a storm,
Paso Doble that filled up the skies.
With whiteness and rain
and spring-summer tease,
swirls and flourishes to the wind cries.
They couldn’t agree
who should take the lead,
so in waves snow and rain left traces.
First the cold, then warmth
(as they flirted and flounced) –
both thinking to fill up the spaces.
28 Thursday Dec 2017
Posted Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
Tis a ghost of an image that comes to my mind
An almost but not quite visual
Like a partial reflection in a night time pond
Far more like something subliminal
Just a fleeting glimpse, a flash then gone
As I try but cannot quite remember
Even though if I have opened my eyes
It stands solid before me, my muse
03 Sunday Sep 2017
27 Monday Feb 2017
Posted age, cats, Free Verse, Poetry, Uncategorized, Whimsy
inCats are like age
They creep up
Unseen
Then suddenly pounce
Leaving marks
27 Monday Feb 2017
09 Monday Jan 2017
Posted Poetry, Ponderings, Starting Points
in08 Sunday Jan 2017
Posted Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
growing up, learning, loneliness, regret, relationships, sorrow
Crystalizing with a lump in my throat
Catching in my breath
As a tear forms in my eye
And a lumping ache in my breast
Missing you already
Still knowing
I had to let you go
I had to let you grow
10 Monday Oct 2016
Posted Free Verse, Poetry, Ponderings
inThese are the men that built the tunnels
The bridges
The highways
These are the men that built the cities
The airports
The cars
These are the men who did the farming
Beside their wives
And their children
When you were born this country was here
Because they’d built it
With their sweat
Sorrows
Joys
These are the men in their advanced years
Some with walkers
Some with wheelchairs
Show them some respect
09 Tuesday Aug 2016
Tags
The sound it made
Like the sky had broken into a million pieces
The flashes of light
Like the sun had been shattered into incandescent filaments
The pouring rain
Like the clouds were letting out tears
they had been holding in
and couldn’t stop
But then it did
09 Tuesday Aug 2016
15 Wednesday Jun 2016
Posted Human interactions, Poetry, possibilities
inPeople tell you they’ll fade
Will soon go away
And no longer be there
Stop making nerves fray
But
In the deep of the night
And stark light of day
They’ll sneak back to haunt you
Or come back to play
14 Tuesday Jun 2016
Posted birds, flight, Free Verse, Nature, Poetry, possibilities, potential
inPoised
In stillness
For an instant
Then
Opening
Cutting the air
With slicing feather sounds
As the beating starts
Flight
19 Thursday May 2016
Posted Fantasy, Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
He looked at the oak
Ancient it was
Its girth so broad that if hollow
He could have stood within
His arms stretched out
And not touched it
At first he knew not why it seemed so important to him
Why it had caught his attention
What had made him lose his breath
In a gasp of wonder
But then
A cloud crossed the sun’s path
And in the shadowlight
He saw it
Not it
Her
Seeming frozen in time
Magically grown from the tree surrounding her
Her arms stretched high to become the two main branches
Her legs flowing into the trunk
So her feet were lost in the roots
Her hair leaves and moss
Sage green
Holly green
Mistletoe green
Her face only seeable in the shadowlight
Eyes closed
Sleeping
Dreaming?
Alive?
Or long dead
petrified
He did not know
It unnerved him
How real she looked
As if she were a dryad
Resting
In the day sun
She could not be real
A figment of his imagination
A creation of his mind
That in his youth
Had been fertile grounds for myths and fairytales
She was a beautiful will of the wisp
A piece of his imagination
A gift of beauty given for him to see
So he smiled
Whimsically
And went back to work
He raised his axe
Ready to start the cutting
Sad to lose this incidental beauty
But knowing the tree was not his
Only the job to cut it down was
He braced his legs
Swung back his arms
Started the forward swing
And saw her eyes open
She looked at him
And screamed
13 Wednesday Apr 2016
Posted Poetry
inTags
13 Wednesday Apr 2016
Posted Poetry
in20 Wednesday Jan 2016
Posted Fantasy, Free Verse, Poetry
inAnd he howls
In memory
Of something he can’t quite remember
Yet
Can never forget
The echo filling the sky
In a way no other wolf
Ever could
Achingly
Reachingly
Beseechingly
And
No matter how many wolves sang
Under the light of that oh so full moon
Always
Forever
Painfully
Plaintively
He was lonely
In singularity
Alone
For there were no others like him
Anymore
He sang without harmony
There were none to sing with him
For he was the last
Of the lycanthrope
28 Saturday Nov 2015
Tags
abuse, elf, elf human marriage, hitting a woman, relationships, rhyming quatrains, three times is habit
When he first saw the elven maid he said she’d won his heart
He told her he would die inside if ever they would part
She said that she would go with him and mortal she would be
Unless a day would come that his hand hit her one, two, three
She knew not why but understood this was her peoples’ way
Third time a human husband strikes is the leaving day
Together they were happy a couple young in love
They seemed to suit each other like a hand will suit a glove
There came a day he saw her singing to the orchard wood
Enticing it to grow in ways that only faerie could
In fear she would be caught and dealt with in the human fashion
He hit her for the first time: once was in passion
There came a day he felt the ox could work a little harder
And so he hit with a whip so that it would pull farther
She tried to stop him doing it, whips aren’t the faerie way
Upset, her hit her with it: anger being second’s way
There came a night he’d drinking been in the nearby inn
She was still up when he came home for reasons he couldn’t fathom
He never thought of what she might have wanted to share with him
He simply felt a rage and then third time emerged from within
Something he’d not cared to ask and so had never known
She had been with child that day, one to call her own
For faerie human coupling a child is rather rare
His child died that very night when he had ceased to care
Next day he was out to work like any other day
But that night he came home to find that she had gone away
On the table she had left a sadly worded note
And he did weep when he did read the words that she had wrote
Once might be by passion driven
Twice in a moment of anger, forgiven
But once there is rage, and you choose to grab it
Then leave I must, for it’s become habit
He searched for her near he searched for her far
He found not a trace of her anywhere
As for her, she now knew the rule of three
Had reason, though still her tears flowed free
For once had been by passion driven
Twice had been anger which she had forgiven
But rage was the point where she had to leave it
Because it meant hitting her had become habit
And she was no longer safe
03 Thursday Sep 2015
Posted Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
being human, courage, epiphany, musician, rejection, saxaphone, street performer, wind in my ear
When I first passed her
Whatever she was playing on her sax
Sounded more discordance than tune
She was not very good
From nerves or lack of skill
Who knows?
Then
Suddenly
I knew
What it was she played
In the Hall of the Mountain King
A piece I’ve always loved
And I remembered
I probably would be playing just as badly
If I was standing where she was
And I can’t even play the sax
It took a lot of guts
So I changed my thinking
Took my change from my wallet
Smiled at her
And dropped change in her hat
03 Thursday Sep 2015
Tags
The gods saw man
Weak in his mortality
They pitied him
Thus they taught
Sending knowings
And gifts
On the wind
Telling of the approaches of beasts
Carrying voices of allies
Holding aloft the seeds
Of what would become the food
The trees
So that man could care for them
About them
Eat them
Live midst them
Sharing the world
Thus did they give to man
But
Man cut down the trees
Slew all the beasts
Forgot all the knowings he had been given
Then
In his egocentricity
He proclaimed himself the equal to the Gods
And screamed at them
Within the wastes he had created
And the gods screamed back