This poem was inspired, in part at least, by the fact that this is the last day of 2011 and while I was composing it the word "countdown" kept drifting through my mind and I realised that it was necessary to blend the two ideas into one whole.
Pleasures [Countdown] - 31 Dec 11
The ghosts of our dreams
Dance in syncopated
Over all the feelings
In all the times
In ecstatic abandon
I feel your touch
Giving without expectation
Taking with gratitude
We both knew
We both new
Standing on the edge
Ready to fly
Thank you Muse for offering me this new piece.
All that is left now is to say...
Blethen Noweth da
[For non-Cornish speakers ~ Happy New Year]
Another of the poems which grew from seed in the very early hours of the day. This time I am not certain where the seed came from but I am pleased with the effect and thank my Muse for showing it to me.
Shadows of the Moon - 24 Dec 11
Moon shine Sun dark Whispers of falling stars Tell me of times When we danced When we kissed Just to remind me Of how things were
Shadows In an abandoned well Act out the drama Upon the stage Supported by cobwebs Followed by the dancers Singers of the plaintive song Dancers in the shadows
We kissed again Our thoughts mingled Blended Grew together Became one In the light of the Moon She knew Smiled at us
This poem took a little while to get near to completion but it still didn't feel right, I asked a friend and two words were changed. This change improved the flow completely and I felt that it was ready to be posted here.
Waiting - 16 Dec 11
I waited for you At the edge Of time I promised you I would be there Till you arrived
Aeons danced Through our Eternity Waves washed the shore Time sang his sweet song Echoed through the years
Your promise to me Still whispers In my mind …I will be there… I see the smile in your eyes Caressing my face Kissing my Soul
I feel that it was worth the wait and my thanks to Muse and to my friend for the suggestions.
This poem was inspired, in small part, by several things; listening to a track from Epitaph called "Visions", remembering the early King Crimson and my own "Warlord Suite". Some of the themes can be heard here though none of them really predominate and this end result is something that is mine. Well, see what you think...
Midnight Journeys - 12 Dec 11
Leaving a trail Of feathers Whispering Of Moon-dark Journeys And tales Of secret meetings On the Temple steps
We Touched And Held
The peacock sings A mellow song Of wandering jesters And tired jokes Heard only by those Who know and smile At the wistful words And gentle sounds
Kissed Under The Trees
The watchers did not Understand…but only stood And swayed To a random rhythm Created in thunder Petted the phœnix’ Fiery back Regardless of the flames
Lay On Silken Sheets
Watching the serpents Dance around the staff Our eyes entranced We dream the Moon Into the day Pull her close to us Taste sweet kisses On the fabric of her robe
Midnight Journeys In Dream
The joke here is "the peacock's mellow song" - have you heard a peacock call?
This is another of the poems which took a little while to fully emerge, the main title and the section titles appeared first - followed a few hours later by the first and third sections. The central section only appeared after a full day but I feel that the wait was worth it.
The terms "first contact" and "last contact" are space-watchers terms to denote the moments when the leading edge and the trailing edge of the observed thing, like the Moon, appears above then clears the sky-line.
In the Moment of the Rising Dream - 09 Dec 11
The church bell Starts to call the midnight hour Ensnares my mind Thoughts drifting In the cage Of yesterday
She stood Stared Into the fountain’s mirror Rippled image
She tried to catch The fleeting shapes As they left a trail Across her mind
Glittering in the dark Trying to rival The stars They shine
Dream fragments Show untidily Disturbed by the fading Bell
Once the echoes Faded Broken Into single tones Teased my memories Tomorrow starts to run
I hope you enjoy this new offering. Thank you Muse for your prompting.
This poem didn't take too long to write but, I have to admit this, I have no idea where it came from. The words just seemed to tumble out onto the "page" and shaped themselves into two interlinked tracts, the four-line and five-line stanzas can be read as individual three-stanza poems or, as I have posted them here - a unified work. See what you think...
She Waits / Night Prison - 09 Dec 11
Nearly closed The rusted iron gates Wrapped with ivy Pretend to defend
In veils of mist She waits… Her tender fingers beckon Asking me To touch
In a cloudless sky Leafless trees ensnare the Moon Hold her prisoner Ransom demanded of the Sun
Tendrils of the night Mist Snags her gown In cold and wet She waits
Dawn so long away Colours of imagining No brush To drag them ‘cross the sky
Ivy will take her tears Gratitude for sadness Feed upon the salty drops Endlessly waiting She invites me
I thank Muse for starting me off on a new voyage of discovery, always wondering where these will lead.
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