cornered
secretive journeys of unknown eyes
follow helplessly through firm air
the new shield
meant only for she who is immortal
sacred
and pure
sets sail for a heart of oblivion
chartering courses yet to be taught
a childless excursion
seeping into a well-known chasm
and yet
boredom worries few
tethering sinew stretched taut
jumbled words of wisdom sought
their carabine stalking guilt to err
and you
Copyright L.M. 2006.
This poem was written last year, when my sister challenged me to write about Florida. Castles, castles, in the sand….. Anyway, hope you enjoy 🙂
it isn’t silence
the sound of light winds
muffled by the white
soft underfoot
recently blessed by sun
sings to the water
tucking, buckling,
racing chariots of miniature waves
leaving treasures to be found
and closely examined
by little hands and feet
the passing curious
whose eyes stray easily
landing upon the pier
with the fishermen ready
dinner in mind
(or maybe pizza tonight)
looking from face to smiling face
everyone knows
everyone feels
it’s love at first breath
sound
touch
sight
and smell
cleansing salty air
performs a miracle
delivering its message of peace
infiltrating lungs with purity
seaweed and all
inciting song and dance for many
and adoration for all
Copyright L.M. 2006. (yes, this is a repost, but if you didn’t want to download the .doc file you can now read it here.)
who would have known?
back to the drawing board…..
rain surrounding
a puddle of mud
where I lay
helplessly shamed
melancholic and merciless
I tie these beams
strength in hands only
unaware of hope
open to nothing
I’m not well
and I sang too much
under me lies ground
unfamiliar and true
the incubated sadness gutting me
sidles up and winks
such a jerk
and buries me in splashes
as he passes me
slamming fists in the mud
Copyright L.M. 2006.
it’s in her style
paths of words streaming
seeming
beaming
their peace upon us all
as we sing out delight
at the voice in our heads
perhaps mouthed in pain
or wreathing
or the simple hurt of breathing
barely there and yet
a final stanza’s set
forgiving all we weren’t
unopened in the eyes of many
sitting all alone
in waiting and impatience
wondering at such
use of passive tense
for not all eyes can see
splendid verbose beauty
but sit here we
gliding fingers highlight text
whose passion rises ours
left only to second-guess
whose life personified
yours or his
hers or mine
ignorant of time
and so it settles
her adorning mind
Copyright L.M. 2006.
(My sister had a different interpretation for this poem when she read it; she thought it was about the Virgin Mary….. have another read and you might see why she, and I now too, can glean that meaning from it…..)
Clio44's Blog 