The Aspiring Bard

Another poem about aspens. I am seemingly enchanted by them. Riches... A whispering sea of aspen gold, Makes me far gladder Than jewels untold.

Sighing leaves of gold On pale limbs that bow and bend Whisper all my secrets To the sprightly Autumn wind. 

Hush now, hush! Not a word to be spoken Or the spell of silent beauty Will certainly be broken.

I want to walk on mountains. I want to touch the sky. Why must I sit Quietly As the world passes me by? I want to feel the ocean Swelling beneath my feet. Why am I still Imprisoned With adventures still to meet? I'll never scale a mountain, Explore a new frontier, While I am still Cowering In my prison-house of fear.

No, I haven't just had an epiphany. Nor am I on the brink of death (as far as I know). This really isn't about me. Cold stars... Guide me home, Back from the world I used to roam. Cold stars... Reminding me Of the girl I used to be. Cold stars... With dark behind, And memories That haunt my mind. Cold stars... Bright Light above. Truth I cling to And faith and love. Cold stars... New hope is there This road won't lead Back to despair. Cold stars... I'm almost home. I lay me down No more to roam.

This is a ballad that I wrote a few years ago to include in a story. I have brushed it up a bit and added a few more verses. The beginning, especially, could use more work to make it flow better. Once there was a mariner, Andureth Bold by name. His hair as shining silver was, His eyes were like a flame. His sword with flashing jewels set, His cloak a seafoam grey, His standard bore a gallant ship, In colors bright and gay. Andureth sailed the boundless seas, He did not know of fear, And many songs and tales he told Of lands both far and near. Gossip ran among the towns... The people called him master Of every sea, and said his ship Could never know disaster. One day he set sail on the sea, The sky was fair and bright. The winds were sweet, the waves were calm, And stars came out that night. But next day a great gale blew in, Fierce from the north-east, The rain a lash, the waves all wild, The wind a...

Our paths converged a few short days, But now we go Our separate ways. Handshake, hug, I start to cry As we say our last 'goodbye'.

I'll admit that this poem is a bit on the strange side. It's also really depressing, and the last line is still a bit unsatisfactory. Hmm... :-/ Sodden cornrows, Dank and still, Drip with morning's clammy chill. Solemn soldiers, Cold and proud, Wrapped up in a misty shroud. Eerie phantoms Linger long Waiting for the martial song - Call to war, 'Do or die, We'll be free men, you and I!' Misty fetters Bind the field Where dead men refused to yield. Freedom's coffin, Buried deep, Leaves a serfdom to its sleep.

The gypsy days of fall are here, When I shall go a-wandering. A sturdy knap sack on my back, A book in hand for pondering.

A bit of silliness that I wrote awhile back. I think and think Of the slinking skink. How he left his tail Beneath my sink. I wonder if His detached tail Will ever stink. Now if it does, What will I think? I'll wish I'd never Tried to catch That slinking skink Beneath my sink... That's what I'll think.

First red leaf     F        l           o         a      t         i     n        g   D      o         w      n Bright against The forest brown.