"gloamings" poems
It's the Spring.
Earth has conceived, and her *****
Teeming with summer, is glad.
Vistas of change and adventure,
Thro' the green land
The grey roads go beckoning and winding,
Peopled with wains, and melodious
With harness-bells jangling:
Jangling and twangling rough rhythms
To the slow march of the stately, great horses
Whistled and shouted along.
White fleets of cloud,
Argosies heavy with fruitfulness,
Sail the blue peacefully. Green flame the hedgerows.
Blackbirds are bugling, and white in wet winds
Sway the tall poplars.
Pageants of colour and fragrance,
Pass the sweet meadows, and viewless
Walks the mild spirit of May,
Visibly blessing the world.
O, the brilliance of blossoming orchards!
O, the savour and thrill of the woods,
When their leafage is stirred
By the flight of the Angel of Rain!
Loud lows the steer; in the fallows
Rooks are alert; and the brooks
Gurgle and ****** and trill. Thro' the gloamings,
Under the rare, shy stars,
Boy and girl wander,
Dreaming in darkness and dew.
It's the Spring.
A sprightliness feeble and squalid
Wakes in the ward, and I sicken,
Impotent, winter at heart.
1.4k
[PLOT
on the green / Cemetery Row]
A stroll
through Carthage stones...
Gargoyles in grey gloamings
of Autumns
of Winters
of the remains of days
the done-buried
keep secret in rigor mortis
kiss
the grave
pushing up daisies, the cherished
our cherubs below tombstones
there lays
In green tarmac flights
On crucifix runways
Mausoleums with eyes
of pyramids and storms
house the ravens watching ghosts
from above just ants below,
beneath undulating cotton lakes
Upon the soil and worms and
souls
mausoleums...
As granite angels mime
upward in prayer
waiting in the weight of the lifeless
wake
white marbled expressions
consternation
of devil may care
None for statues or halos
they're capture in boxes,
coffins / all inmates
The American gothic gallows
Caustic the silences
once stories of beams of light
Such lives afire
now mere half paragraphs
in respite /
In unforgiven mires
[On a plot of green
in cemetery row...]
Gargoyles in the mist
these arrested flights
of wish dismissed
of effulgent life
through the spindle of an hourglass
spider-webs of fog
where I share my path
Here the haunted besides (roaming)
a land of quietude
futures devoid yet still turning
The cyclic times
The unlearned
dreaded cold below
[On a plot of green, Cemetery row...]
Rest will happen
but my spirit is a phoenix
Great flocks of birds
Asphodels
Whilst
taking a stroll...
Past plots of green,
In cemetery row
How such silences scream :
the fallen :
death's blanket of snow.
[Carnage. &. Stone.]
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
It is there
Inside my mind
A place of solitude
Beneath a monochrome sky
Where hopes and dreams
And all desires
Once flourished
In brilliant colors
Upon the dawn
If only I had courage
To allow you in
To show you
What I see now
The shadowed fears
The insecurities
Like dried leaves on the wind
The tears that stain
In blackened hues
The once soulful sky
Cast now in gloamings gray
Here I sit
In this fading light
Silently watching
The colors fade
Breaths of hope
Turning to translucent mists
Hands gripping
Holding on to hope
Eyes searching
In the darkening sky
The splinters of distrust
Embedded deep within
Bleed the color
Of what once was
You are not gone
Not in the physical realms
But here upon this bench
Under this monochrome sky
Deep within my mind
I sit alone
And wait for
The return of color
© LAO Poetry 2016
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC