The moonlight.

It’s silver, it’s calming—it brings me some hope.

Its presence, though distant, is constant.

It lightens the burden of sorrows

until I am lost in these horrors.

What makes me – imposter? a monster?

I shiver; it’s frightening—I plead all to stop,

to rewrite—

the moonlight.

Every poem is a gemstone
Every word a jewel
Set in silver, or in gold
Our muses bring renewal.
They convey. They have their say
In amethyst or beryl.
They are Bisbee turquoise
Or luminous as pearls.
Ruby smoulders, garnets dark
Gems from 'round the world.

Some are facets emerald green,
Some are for our ears.
Some are fashioned for the throat
Some aquamarine tears.
Some black onyx pendants
To play upon our fears.

Rings to place on fingers
For friendship or engagement.
Some are placed in
Deep dark drawers
As tokens of estrangement.
But no matter how
They're placed
'Tis meaningful arrangement.

Topaz golden moments
Pirite is for fools
But ALL poems are diamonds

All of them are JEWELS.

SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
11/23/2020

Green grass, silver chain,
a low, slate sky waiting to rain.
My Golden Retriever finishes her yawn,
sits up, and takes off like a shot
towards the far end of the lawn.
In one, long wave the fine mesh links
are played out until the line yanks taut.
The dog never learns. My heart sinks.

From "Bird's Nest In Your Hair" by Brian Jobe

A heart of gold
Silver is sold
Bronze is told
What diamonds behold

winter holidays and you become snow
between glaciers and silver towers
among apes, wizards and goons
you become snow in the winter

as you turn into what you dread
as you turn into this being
a viking, werewolf, you name it
may the games begin, you may die

beneath the surface of your dreams
beneath red heavens and families
in times of hunger, you stay focussed
you become snow in the winter

as you turn into another, an: other
snow is flooding the news flash
sinners, brothers and sisters
burning sandstorms, playful twisters

elijah's path is covered with thorns
roses **** the innocent and they cry
wild roses turn into winter snow
raise your head, watchin' them grow

clocks, the same time, worldwide
remember the oaths of the old ones
remember them praying in the snow

...and turn into this being

When lost in giant thoughts
and mumbling lips don’t hear
how divine prayers fall
on puppets on the walls
In vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!

When darkness bends the light
and you hide from y’own eyes
and you run from y’own voice
and force the cogit shut its door,
In vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!

When lazy sky transforms
the clouds into boomerangs
and crippled stars pretend
to be white angels of your lies,
in vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!

When houses are cold
and candles are not burning
and tears are pervert actors
that never listen to the silver bell,
In vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!