fay-slimm
English
I have been in love with the mystery of words ever since I learned to read - keeping journals and writing stories and plays was part of my childhood then later when I found the power of poetry I chose the art of written impression and never looked back. Expression of inner self comes first and when the muse is allowed to act it lifts normality to another dimension. I do hope readers here will find something of value in the poems I post about my beautiful coastal home in Cornwall U.K. and the bounty of nature. I hope to learn much from poets here too so a warm Hello from me to all at this friendly site and I really look forward to getting to know other writers and readers who admire the power of word - - - - from Fay.
Jewelled with
rainbow translucence roll
rain-bead *****
slowly down outer-windows.
Golden-globe
seed pearls, clear watery
glories slide
in uniform lines, floorward.
Diamonds in
transit they shine and fire
sparks from each
crystalline orb's inner eye.
Smallest gems,
if unnoticed, might seem
irrelevant when
joined by rush into sheen.
Caught however
by eyes with keen poetic
insight rain-drop
beauty bequeaths an ode.
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 4:09 AM UTC
Too soon comes Autumn, nipping the heels
of unwary Summer while it stealthily seals
subtle changes in verdant leaf-laden trees.
Ripened fruits begin dropping unhinged by
rattle of branches in which Autumn hides.
Before battle commences its volatile breeze
scatters copper-thin shivers through obese
Summer with its cunningly capricious ease.
Autumn comes running nor stands aside
while plants adjust to its dynamic stride.
It tosses relentless as with bounty it plays
and douses growth's hold by raining days
of voracious havoc onto Summer's ill-fate.
Scurrying birds sense the warning of chill
as Autumn's sigh pecks at my window-sill.
All life battens down to change of season
for as Summer recedes, fight must yield.
Flower buds crumble and last roses fade
knowing Autumn comes running, to stay.
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 3:09 AM UTC
Whispers from wine-coloured moonlight have now
blighted old river grass.
No-one will pass by this flood's blistering chorus of
frustrated past outcry.
The waters stay silted with years-long, war-seared
bitterness as each ill-timed
Peace talk crumbled to finish killed by conclusions
of coated top-brass.
Dreams of the tortoise-shelled butterfly days faded
long before turbulent rapids
Drew young men and women toward battles over
naught but misapplied fears.
Lifetimes float hormonally by in river-side history
as pride's facade of need for action.
Forces of folk press-mustered, taught naught but
allegiance to mindless leads.
Listening I hear victims' pathetic exits still weeping
regrets for conceding to hate.
Wisps of blood-to-come days surface from tainted
mould as no war sits easily.
What happens when, hit by flows of violence peace
can no longer struggle for gain ?
Reddened under-tow of sacrifice rises from victims
caught in sightless obedience.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
If first light following night's release
seizes every day's dawning
to increase
the force of nature's fresh air feast
which overrides
residues of human sleep drifting
and provides more
meaning to a deep-stretch revival
why not breathe it in ?
If delight upon which one stumbles
at first light gives the urge
contained in that
humbling moment as dawn takes
up reigns cleansed by
dark silence to draw in morning air
and purge dream-dried
remains in lungs, heart and mind
why not breathe it in ?
If alchemy, in waking at first light
outweighs and changes
last cosy minutes under a duvet
by urging fresh ways
to adventure which illuminate life
why not breathe it in ?
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
Sensuality.
Eastern the rhythm as dancing begins.
Practiced fluidity.
Gliding vibration of smooth undulation.
Transparent veils quiver like airy wings.
Bared sensuality.
Stunning production of pulsating pelvis.
Entrancing the swirl of seductive spins.
Twirled spontaneity.
Skirt's silken fringes shake by gyration.
Bangled wrists shiver in twisting rings.
Mounting engagement.
Lookers call loudly stirred by sensation.
Oriental performance an audience wins.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
If first light that follows night's release
seizes every day's dawning
to increase
the force of nature's fresh-air feast
which overrides
residues of human sleep re-course
and provides new
meaning to a deep-breath revival
then why not breathe it in ?
If delight upon which one stumbles
at first light gives the urge
contained in that
humbling moment as dawn takes
up reigns cleansed by
dark silence to draw in morning air
and purge dream-dried
remains in lungs, heart and mind
then why not breathe it in ?
If blessings of waking at first light
outweigh last cosy moments in bed
and aid us gather fresh store of life
then why not breathe it in ?
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 9:02 AM UTC
Go gentle today.
Muse a few moments and find
a still space
Tread with care to nurture your
own special grace.
Go gentle today.
Stay and meditate a while on
just who you are.
You are a marvel of beautiful
life, you are a star.
Go gentle today
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
Dearest My Lord.
please to read this missive not with haste
but in serious thought.
Come Sire, and view such unholy state
to which thou hast brought me
at being with child and of hearing lately
of thy touring intent mine heart
starteth in great alarm, as I indisposed
must know for sure that thou be
not going away.
Fie upon that scheme mine Liege for
thou hast in me fathered a babe.
Thou shouldest stay, and embrace mine
own confinement to disgrace,
whereby the infant will bear no name
and wouldst thou abandon me to this fate
prithee have pity on offspring shame.
Pray marry me do, thou canst not afford
to blacken my name by
seeing the truth and fleeing abroad
and thus relinquish thy parenthood destiny.
I belong only to thee so do not ill-use me.
Thou sought thy way, now takest thou mine
for without thy support I must surely decline.
Thus thou ought to realize I live in frightful
dread unless on thee I rely.
This heart beateth only for thine say I.
Thou hast undone me so prithee consider
direst consequence, face thy conscience
and beside me do stay.
I remain heavy with anticipation lest thy reply
dashes all trust and quill thee therefore
to think my Lord on resolving such trouble
as of utmost importance.
Sent in the month of September 1709.
From Mary Elizabeth, distraughtly thine.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC
Love, the eternal underprized God-word
has become today
mostly outmoded.
Alteration stains its disguised state, for
love, absurdly changed to shadows,
is merely pretence
and smells corroded.
Masquerading as depth with no worth
love lies weakened and is nothing
special, seen by some
as almost inept.
Left un-nurtured, this gift called love
withers when carnal lust invades
and fades its force to
rating mere second.
Desecration of words begets usurpers,
and non-use deteriorates power
when love is viewed
as fervor demeaned.
Once confessed love needs constancy,
otherwise as with any mistook
God-word, compromised
love becomes surreal.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
A little silence mothers more truth for those
who dare seek and embrace
the unheard,
for if not smothered stillness guides minds
to find in quiet
something of beauty waiting behind sound
to become to the listener
more than mere antidote.
To those who see value in unsung whispers
a soundless time provides
escape to peace,
composes a peerless calmness aiding days
of halcyon balm
which reaches life's mystic core of healing
for only at rest can stillness
stifle stress of noise wholly.
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 5:08 PM UTC