Showing posts from September, 2011


Another poem about aspens. I am seemingly enchanted by them.

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
As the world passes me by?

I want to feel the ocean
Swelling beneath my feet.
Why am I still
With adventures still to meet?

I'll never scale a mountain,
Explore a new frontier,
While I am still
In my prison-house of fear.

Cold Stars

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.

Ballad of Andureth

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 screaming beast.

Three days they ran before the storm, Tossed helpless on the sea. An…


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'.

Mist Phantoms on an Old Battlefield

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.

Gypsy Days

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.

Slinking Skink

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 Leaf

First red leaf

Bright against
The forest brown.