The clock is forever driving me,
The minute hand is not nice.
The time is getting away so fast;
Can't take time to think about it twice.
The seconds run away and hide
Taking minutes and hours away.
I try to slow them down a bit,
Begging them to stay.
"Time marches on" the people say
With boots that are unforgiving.
Perhaps the best thing for me to do
Is to get on with my living.
This is an older poem written some time back.
My head is pounding
Feeling waves of nausea
Even the light hurts.
Waking up slowly
The bed's warmth holds me hostage.
Where is my coffee?
Warming in the sun
Paws stretched; back to relaxing.
Can opener calls.
Moving through the night
Silent sentry cold and bright
Darkness hiding light.
I remember like it was the day before
All those clever, well-crafted barbs thrown in my direction.
I remember the tears of youth unbroken by childish laughter.
The pain knew where to find me at the core of my core.
Left naked in a storm of scorn with no protection,
So long ago, but the hate lingers after.
Fitfully, vainly trying to stop up every hole
Before the hate finds a way to escape
And race down the corridors of my mind.
It will find the center of my soul
And there take on its awful shape
Only to leave a legacy of anger behind.
Trying to hold the darkness at bay
With self-made sunshine and lifted chin
But the memories of anger soak through me like rain.
I look back on memories tinted watercolor gray.
No true sunlight finds its way in
And the darkness of pain and hate swallows me whole once again.
This is an older poem I had written and posted on another site.
She plays softly by the moonlight
In mournful solitude surrounded by mist
With the moon listening to the violin's song.
The notes caress the stars at night
As the violin sings with her tenderness.
The night carries the music along.
She comes alone at night to sit by the lake
And pour her heart into the violin's strings.
The violin's voice haunts the nighttime air.
She plays a song of longing that makes her heart break.
Her spirit weeps as her violin sings,
While into the night rises a song of despair.
The moon and the stars lend their ears
As the solitary maiden comes to play
And the mournful notes take flight.
They listen until the sun's greeting nears
And the tune finishes with the birth of the day,
But will be started anew when her violin sings at night.
The morning finds the young lasses milking
And the young lads in the fields cutting
Rams, ewes, and lambs eat and grow fat.
The hens lay eggs while the roosters are strutting.
The sun rises up for his daily walk,
Drawing the day across the sky.
He takes his daylight with him to another place
Because the moon's time is nigh.
Evening falls across the heather
And the stars come out to dance.
The faerie folk come to life
And fill the night with their lyrical chants.
The mists on the moors swirl and caper about,
Taking rock and tree to embrace.
The faerie folk make merry and dance about
'Neath the silver of the moon's face.
They dance to music as old as time,
Melodies and rhythms from long ago.
Verses sung in ages long past,
Songs only faerie folk know.
They sing and dance under the moon and stars,
As long as the night covers them about.
But the moon and the faerie folk must go their ways
For 'tis time for the sun to come out.
The wind is crying while the moon rides high
The trees whisper their secrets one to another.
A lone figure, a woman it would seem
Makes her way under the velvet sky
As into the dark she travels further
Passing quietly, as if in a dream.
Always on time,
She never tarries.
The night is her veil and her cover.
She is trapped in time
And her shattered heart carries
The loss of her long-dead lover.
They were bound by their hearts.
Their love was true.
They had no worries for tomorrow.
But the dark lay ahead,
They would never be wed.
The future would only bring sorrow.
The time was set forth
When these two would be one
Before the coming of the autumn's first frost.
But before they were married,
Dreadful news to her was carried.
The love of her life had been lost.
He was traveling at night
Through the woods near the town
Where he wanted to make her his wife.
But the night brought him harm
In the form of a storm.
The might of it robbed him of life.
The rain from the clouds
Made the streams too unruly.
They made their own way across the ground.
In their terrible sway
They washed her lover away.
It was morning before he was found.
She put away her gown of white
And donned a veil of black.
She wore it the rest of her life.
She would never recover
From the loss of her lover,
The one who would make her his wife.
The years went by,
But her heartache remained.
Her pain had made her its slave.
When her life ended,
She was buried next to her intended,
A heart-shaped wreath on her grave.
When the moon rides high and the wind cries
As the trees whisper their secrets to each other,
A lone figure, a woman in black it would seem
Will make her way under the velvet skies.
Into the dark she will travel further
She will move, as if in a dream...........
What is it I'm reaching for,
This thing I cannot touch?
Is it a word, a truth, or a question;
Perhaps a riddle or rhyme?
Is it a wondrous treasure
Or is it nothing much?
Will I learn its essence in time?
I seek for this thing
Though I don't know what it might be.
I spend my time searching
For that one missing piece.
Perhaps, one day, it will come to me
And bring with it a quiet peace.
The shadows are dark,
A contrast to the moon's cold light.
What secrets hide within the darker darks
That go deeper than our sight?
The smell of the fallen leaves
And the fires that keep us from the cold;
The smell of wood smoke in the air
That make us think of things of old.
What did they do in those times that went before?
What songs did they sing?
What tales did they tell
Back in those times of yore?
Do the skies of evening that come so soon
Make you wonder and ponder
Of times gone by and the songs sung in an ancient tune?
Do they make you think of ancient rhymes
Does the smell of wood smoke bring up dreams
Of elder, ancient times?
The moon with her light
Makes the shadows seem to hold
Ancient mysteries in the night,
In the moonlight so cold.
The cloud is expectant and heavy
I am one of its children being born in the sky
Then, my mother is ready- she releases me
And I descend to the earth from on high.
I fall in time with the other children,
We travel downward, faster and faster we go
Toward our destination.
We feed the earth, waiting below.
We soak the ground, giving it life.
We fill streams, rivers, and seas with their share.
We wait patiently to arise again,
To gather again in the air.
We wait inside another cloud,
As we pass once again through the sky.
Our mother is ready and releases us,
We are born once again in the sky.