Welcome to Spritemares an adventure in my mind through poetry. Please press the play button to begin your adventure...
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THE STORM
The storm calls my name,
Beckons me to come and play,
Dance in wild abandon
In it's purplish light.
Lightening flashes,
Quick, bright flares of blinding light,
Shatter the darkness of my heart.
Thunder booms, echoing
Response shivers through my soul
How could I resist the call?
AUTUMN REVERIE
The sky was the color blue that you see in a sailor's eye
That speaks of open seas, faraway places
And too many days in the sun
The trees detailed in shades of gold and red
Zephyr breezes loose a shower of brilliance
To swirl and float gently to the ground
A variegated tapestry carpet of leaves
Magpie calls out secrets loud enough
For those who will to hear
Raven flits from branch to branch
Blue black flashes of wing
Days grow shorter, nights longer
Stirs longings for the storytellers return
A warm fire, cozy seat and dreams
Magick wonder weaves into the soul
A time of endings, preparation for beginning
Darkness falls, harvest moon rises
Over the hilltops
The Lady's face in Autumn Gold.
BELTANE MOON
Thunderstorm echoes, speaking stories across the earth.
Neath the oaks secret lovers sip golden summer wine.
Beltane moon rises, shining silver in the evening sky.
In the circle, vibrant, fire-lit, the lady waits.
DreamSinger sings the songs of old, the dancers spiral turning;
Earth and water, fire and air; on the altar candles burning.
East then South, West and North, the corner wards are called.
Raise the cup and drink; salute to she who waits.
We, who stand on the edge of wonder, ask and do invoke,
Into the circle enter, enter, love and trust your oath.
The scent of incense fills the night, carries whispers on the wind.
The horned lord bidden, here the lady waits.
Mysteries are spoken, souls and hearts, our will be done!
Passions inflamed are given reign, freed from earthly bounds.
Renewal, fulfillment, as above, so below, and blessed be.
Under the Beltane moon,The lady waits no more!
MORNING WORSHIP
from the valley floor i watch as the first green-gold rays,
a hint of glory to come, burst victoriously from behind blue mountains capped
with blinding white
in the distance, dim and barely heard, the crow of a rooster. lowing of cattle.
snowbirds begin their daily hunt searching for seeds, berries to break nights
fast
overhead eagle wheels silent in brightening sky; the clouds now rosy with
morning, eyes focused on the river, hoping to spot the first sea-bound salmon....
coyote barks her last song of night, gathers her brood, and sleeps
horse whickers and blows, stamps hooves on crystalline snow, breath clouds
of steam which freeze, sparkle falling... quail thunder from beneath sage,
escaping, threatened by my proximity
elk, grazing nearby in oat-fields unconcerned, know, today, i do not hunt
daybreak breeze whispers through naked branches of spring trees, sends them
trembling, as with cold... scatters powder snow from evergreens
reminds me, i walk alone but not Alone...
i sing a song of renewal, worship and dream of a cup of cocoa.... and home
SOMETIMES
Sometimes in the dark hours of the night
I reach for you. That space where you should be
So cold and empty. Pillow not even creased
With the weight of your head. Sheets not warmed
By your heat. Silent tears of aching desire
Fall unheeded alone. Heart pulsing with want
Need and sorrow.
Sometimes in the dark hours of night.
I dream of you. The sticky sweet of your voice
Echoes in my ears. Your scent soft and musky
Dimly remembered. The taste of your salty skin
On my lips. The velvet of your skin
Touching mine. Sweet pleasure of two hearts
Becoming one.
Sometimes in the dark hours of the night.
But not this night.
I thought of you today.
It's been so long since I have.
I had almost forgotten your face,
once so dear.
I was at work behind the counter
when a stranger walked in...
maybe it was the cologne or an inflection of voice
but, suddenly I remembered how much I loved you.
And I wonder, as one does,
Are you happy in your new life?
Did it all turn out as planned?
Those plans that turned us .. into you..... and me?
It's nice, the memory doesn't ache now
not like it once did.
I am content now, in myself.
I was just wondering.. do you ever think of me?
To Good Friends.
Raindrops beating on the tin roof, gather in
the rafters to drip down onto the hard packed dirt floor.
The scent of cattle mellowed with the sweetness of hay. My favorite hiding
place on a rainy day.
The warmth of her side as I lean my forehead against her flank, hands in motion
beneath, pulling rhythmically, the steaming frothy jets of milk hitting my
pail.
Cats are clamoring nearby hoping for a treat. Roll over, purr, show me what
good kittens they can be... beggars. Please, they seem to say, rubbing along
my legs.
The cow watches them carefully, beautiful brown eyes wary for any sign of
treachery.
The warmth, smells sounds and textures of the barn lull the mind.
Sometimes after milking the cow will lie down in a soft pile of loose straw
and I will lean against her side, chewing on a straw, trying to match my breathing
to hers. She chews her cud contentedly.. I let my mind drift to daydreams.
The old dog lays at my feet.. tail thumping. I want to run with him again,
like we did when we were both pups, but he is no pup any longer. My favorite
companion, he acts as though he understands my every thought, perhaps he does.
On a cold damp day he can hardly walk, his joints are so stiff. I wish he
would stay at home by the fire, but it is in his nature to stay by my side.
Sometimes I have to carry him home.
I wonder if, when I am old, will someone be there to pick me up when it hurts
too much to move?
He is a treasure, this old man dog of mine. Always glad to see me no matter
how I look or how grumpy I am.
I think today, about the people I know, how one day they love you and the
next seem to forget you.
Cats are cool, far too cool to depend on. They love you when they want to
and then walk away switching their tails.
I have heard some men comparing women to cats.. sometimes with good reason.
I prefer the old dog and the placid, if slightly stupid, cow. They are always
what they seem, no pretensions, few complaints... unless dinner is very late.
I get the curry from its hanger on the wall and brush the loose fawn colored
hair from the cow... her sides twitch as if it tickles and occasionally i
would swear she smiles.
The old dog snores.
Rainy days in the barn are good for thinking... overwhelming problems arent
so hard to sort out there. The work is cathartic and the company is good.
The old dog, the cows and even the self -centered cats.
Midnight Carousel
The carousel is still now
As if some merry race
Of fabulous steeds
Stands frozen in time.
No more the cacophony
Of calliope music enmeshed
With shouts of laughter
Only the sough of wind.
Limned now only with moonlight
Darkened, hazy, otherworldly
Shadows, which seem to move
Play amidst the deeper shades.
Painted ponies, eyes wide
Hooves poised in mid-gallop
Lunge as if bored with the endless
Circle they are destined to travel.
With a sharp cry I am propelled from my slumber,
gasping from some
half-remembered fear.
Bolt upright I sit, unsure of my surroundings, who am I? And where?
What has set my heart to pounding, left me
staring into the darkness,
straining to hear?
Mind awhirl with questions, body tense and straining, warily aware.
Thoughts tumble one upon another, what truths know I, what comfortable lies?
Is the soul; real or only imagination, a misconception to ease the pain?
I held the child and watched as the light flickered, and left his tiny eyes.
Weak and helpless, unable to heal, to help, to ease, even to maintain.
What truth then? What grand and cozy lies? Can someone tell me peace?
I know only what those who have gone before
have told, the story in their
words.
Behind the masks of public persona, what is the nature of the private beast?
Whispers of imagination, dreams shared, reality’s sharpness becomes blurred.
Revere your inner divinity, they preached, the god within, without.
If there is no god within.. no god without, what then is there for us?
Do we exist , because I think, I am? I wonder as I wander lost about.
Moments of clarity and brilliance, from earth
return to dust.
"Daddy no!" she cried, as he walked out of her life.
Small and alone she stood and watched him go.
Broken heart bleeding inside her child’s breast.
The truth of fighting and ugliness she doesn’t know.
"Daddy no!" she cried, as he plunged into her body.
Fear and pain mingle with the unbearable shame.
Broken spirit lies crumpled, tossed aside like refuse.
No longer innocent, bears the sin that has no name.
"Daddy no!" she cried, as he beat her to senselessness.
Rage begins to build where once lived love so fair.
Battered body lies weak and used upon the floor.
Silent screams reverberate as he brushes back her bloody hair.
"Daddy no!" she cried, as they placed him in the ground.
She threw the dirt in that dark hole, heard it strike the wood.
Love and fear waged war inside the empty shell of an angel.
"God, if u bring him back to me, I promise
I will be good."
Winter wind blows cold across my heart,
whispering secret desires that will never be.
Dreams encased in icicles, frozen in time,
waiting, hoping, eternally for the thaw
"Pardon me, he said, but you're standing
to close to my heart.
I've given it once before, you see, and had it returned torn apart."
"I'm sorry, he said, but you must understand
that it's me, it's not you at
all.
Into that trap of sweet smiles and tender lies, I never again will fall."
How sad, I thought as I walked away, how empty
his life must be.
To never realize the joy of love, but to dwell in his misery
this is an attempt to draw a picture through three haiku poems... dunno did
it work... heheheh
Susurrus of waves
Disillusioned with the shore
Returning to sea.
Salt mist lies in scraps
Like ancient ragged shrouds
Upon marsh grasses
Footprints in the sand
Presumptuous and alien
Disturb perfection
Depression burns like acid rain
dripping..... dripping.... dripping
from tar paper roof above a
closed door hanging askew from its rusted hinges
gathering in oily puddles in hollows
worn in tired steps by generations of those
who passed us by time and again
broken windows stare out blindly
into the darkness punctuated with sirens and flashing light
bare walls, stained from too many years of neglect
tell tales unheard by human ears
of lives lived, loves lost of birth and death
decay, the smell of mold and dust
will no one recognize the beauty she once was
perhaps some society, historical or otherwise
will one day take pity on the piteous empty shell
or some distant future wrecking ball remove
the final remnants of her presence
to make room for condos for those who are worthy
dissonance
your words mean nothing
only noises that you make in vain
attempt to placate and mislead.
resonance
the echo seemingly
eternally along the void where
once dwelt happiness and love.
permanence
that thing you promised
but could/would not deliver
i have found within myself.
distance
all that remains between
me and thee after everything
has been said and done.
Lhiannon Sidhe
Lhiannon Sidhe the faerie mistress,
casts not her spell for silver or gold.
With dreams and poetry she gifts us,
Words of wisdome and beauty to unfold.
Not for deeds of courage or daring,
though her suitors all would be bold.
For such as that she'll naught be caring,
all she asks for is your soul.