Poetry

Days of Memory

Descent

Vibrant colours shone,
Upon the descent.
The passage was long,
Narrow and bent.

The stars hastened by;
They seemed to entwine.
My thoughts were as dry,
As a glass of white wine.

From that hallowed place,
I have been evicted.
To face the human race,
And a life predicted.

My guardian may, pay me a visit,
As this place I shall forget,
But not in my spirit,
And that’s what I will regret.

Dreams

Night Close

The night has moved back in,
To envelop her life once again.
She prepares for the return of her warrior,
To warm and dry him of the days rain.

They lovingly embrace for a while,
Talking shortly of their days events.
Routinely the routines return,
Meals served, kids to their beds.

The warmth of the open hearth,
Draws them closer to one and other and fire.
Ever so closer the snuggle and embrace,
The night closes sensing each others desires.

Paradise Contradiction

Calling Inspiration

The sky was ablaze out toward the west,
The darkness creeping slowly from the east.
Stars were appearing casually one by one,
Like pinholes pricked by an unseen beast.

Night sounds of a chaotic orchestra,
Music of insects and my idle machine.
Drifting off into thoughts and solace,
Hoping to see things as of yet unseen.

Trees stand in dark foreboding shadows,
Serving as memories of a time not gone long.
When powers were constantly standing over us;
Watching over our deeds both right and wrong.

The shadows lift every once in a while,
As the moon appears from behind a black cloud.
Shedding knowledge upon those unknowing:
Individuals standing out amongst a gathered crowd.

The trees lose their overbearing presence,
No longer are they ominous and frightening.
There is a new wave spreading amongst the people,
Both illuminating and quite enlightening.

One world in it’s sky, land, and sea;
Is a thought with emotion running through the deep.
Surely this is not an impossible undertaking,
When there’s nothing left to do but to sleep.
Originally written in the year of 1993

Ramblings

Lost in a world

Lost in a world,
Not a friend can you find.
Lost in a world,
You feel helplessly blind.

You travel along corridors,
Almost stumble and fall.
A cane, you have no more.
But alas! You hear someone' s call.

The corridors are quite long.
They have many an open hoist.
It's a struggle, but your will is strong.
Try! Try to find that voice.

You walk the long, upward slope.
What are they, blue or green?
There's a new burst of hope,
For these things, you have seen.

You climb upward, more and more,
To confront your own blue eyes.
Behind you are all the doors.
Forward bound to open skies.

Serenades to a Priceless Princess

Writings of an Anonymous Poet

To be loved and to love,
Is an achievement in it’s self.
But to be friends as well as lovers,
Is to grasp an impossible wealth.
Rarely will two individual entities;
Without provocation or knowledge of the other,
Come together so smoothly and passively,
As Nature surely goes to its mother.
Yet this united being suffers,
The intolerable pain of persecuting peers.
A once impenetrable piece of marvel,
Now shrouded in uncertainties and fears.
Through all the trauma and torment,
Placed upon the path of this unison,
Like a rubber ball they in turn bounce back,
Enduring the compression and withstanding the expansion.
Alas, the rubber ball can only last,
As long as a rubber ball can.
Are these the writings of an anonymous poet?
Or are they the cries of a mistaken man?

Special

Bag of Memories

The preparation for the journey was to be long,
Your pain and drawn out good-byes from the throng.
To help you on your travels I give you this song,
With this added baggage of memories to carry along.

Too many memories for such a short time,
Yet treasured and held close to this heart of mine.
To my darling soon to rest above,
The one real memory is that of our love.

Son and daughters of bond, not blood,
Send these memories of eternal love.
From the white rose to the white dove,
These words cannot convey the depth of their love.

Ever the more so, is love thicker than water,
These memories come from your eldest daughter.
The touch of your hand and soft, baby like skin
That reflected the love and purity that came from within.

Another remembers the smile upon your gentle face,
When you both danced the dance of waltz and grace.
And although she knows things will never be the same,
Whenever she dances, she’ll dance with you again.

Little words but of sincere trusting care,
Advice always given from a love so rare;
“Listen to me and you will far,
A close friend will teach you to drive in my car!”

“Carretse, Nonno ….Carretse, Nonno”, Caress me;
Grandchildren one and all cherish this memory.
And from those of us who joined in late,
Safe journey to you our father, companion, and mate.
Written and Illustrated at Dincara’s Lair for and on behalf of Margery, Susan, Marina, and Colin and their respective families.

The Garden

East Coast ( Ferral's Thoughts )

We've been waiting for Hasten's return,
As he should have returned by now.
Maybe, he's still resting up with Kindaal;
Maybe, he's only away by an hour.

Since he's been gone, things have been stirring.
I think that we are awfully close to the Towers,
Because the fires and chanting are alive;
I don't know if they are Natas's or ours.

I sent a scout out to confirm my thoughts.
He returned to tell me of the Assistant's retreat;
How they were running scared from something,
Unaware of what, he couldn't see through Between's heat.

I do wish Hasten would speed things up,
So I could attack, instead of this dreary wait.
I so wish, Hasten would give me Kindaal's orders,
So that I could seal Natas's deserved fate.