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Showing posts from October, 2011

Waiting

This needs music. I can't write music. :'-(

Hush now sister,
Our daddy's coming soon.
Perhaps the tide will bring him in
Before the rising moon.

Hush now sister,
And sit down here with me.
We'll be the first to spy his ship
Come sailing on the sea.

Hush now sister,
Although it's been four years,
Daddy told us he'd come home,
So wipe away your tears.

Watchers

Image
Grim grey death-heads
Carved in stone
Stare blankly at the sky.
Watching with unseeing eyes
As centuries pass by.

< This is a death-head
(Just in case you were wondering)

Voyage of Fantasy

Wrap me in a magic cloak
Of misty ocean spray.
Loose the anchor, set the sail,
And let me drift away.
Let me sail the boundless seas
Of fairyland's Unknown,
Tossing on the waves of dream
Where my thoughts have flown.
Release me from your world of gray,
And harsh reality.
Let my beleaguered soul find peace
In flights of fantasy.

Forest Child

The mountain pulls me to
Its pulsing heart.
The foothills reaching out
To make me part
Of river, stone and tree
Of rugged wild.
I have become
The forest's foster-child.

Enfold me with a scarf
Of gentle green,
And lead me to the wood
And let me lean
Against a friendly tree.
Please take my hand
And guide me out
Into the wilderland.



Sea Call

Oh come with me, come,
To the beckoning sea!
The cry of the gull
Rings out wild and free.
The breakers and billows
Are calling to me,
And wind in the dunes
Harps a strange melody.

Can you hear the words,
That they're chanting to me?
Of a place that is wild
And reckless and free?
So come away, come,
From the field and the tree.
Hand-in-hand lets us run,
Let us run to the sea.

Refugee

I was listening to a Syrian refugee being interviewed on the radio today. She said, "I dream every day of coming home to kiss the sand and feel the flag brush across my face." Her words stuck out to me as a poem waiting to happen.

I dream each night
Of returning home.
I kiss the sand
Of my lovely land
And feel the flag
Of my native race...
Its wind-blown folds
Caress my face.

The second-to-last line is still a bit messy. I think it's rather long.

Grey Mouse

Grey mouse
Creeps and peeks,
Sniffs and sneaks,
Patters across the floor.
Questing scraps,
Free of traps,
Around the pantry door.

Cry

How many times am I a part of the rushing crowd, pushing the homeless, the needy, the hurting, aside?

Cry your tears to a heedless moon,
Hopeless dawn will be rising soon,
So cry, cry,
To the careless sky.

The rushing crowd might pause to stare,
But no one knows, nor do they care.
So cry, cry,
As they pass you by.

You're just another hopeless face,
Adrift among a heartless race.
So cry, cry,
'Til the tears run dry.