Sunday, 6 May 2012

Sample Sunday: poetry



Poetry from Kaleidoscope & Travelling Light




Rain

She sits and dreams of making rain
In the dark, shadows dancing mimic
Colours of the aghast
Sights and sounds and murmurs
Still breathing
Watching over the edge
Of everything
The glass splinters into a million shapes
Cast in a myriad of lights
Bright and sparkling, dancing
In the spring sun
And she dreams of making rain
That tears and crashes
Washing away the shards of glass
Splattering the colours rent
With droplets of ice-cold nothing
Cuts and caresses
Shards of grass peeking through
Clouds gathering
Dust.

Moon beams

Distancing the days
In her fragile accolade
The moon reaches down
Towards coloured boats bobbing
Twinkling she shines
Lighting the way
For every stranger passing
And old friends returning
She travels the skies
In a silvery glide
Always remembering
The shortness of time


I don’t mind

I don’t mind
If you stare
Or paint the room in blue
While I sleep

I don’t mind
If you walk a while
Or smile in your style
And mimic your expression

I don’t mind
If the urge to be is too much
Or the strength to see is gone
While I dream


So we go

Into the night we go
Free as birds
Soundless and unseen
Trivial and green
Unknowing, unthinking
With no boundaries
No obstacles –
With wings, groundless



Ballerinas

Ballet dancers painted by Degas
Bright sweeps across a canvas
Lithe bodies captured in movement
On tiptoes, a fleet of lace

Swan Lake shimmers in snow
White tufts of hazy dew
Tap-tap tapping across the stage
Soaring then to sink and fly

Leaping skyward full of life
Jumping in motions eternal
Over again in a silent curve
Showering the empty stage

Danced out and spent
They sit and wait chattering
Dizzy with a bright energy
That leaves them laughing

Painted with a sharp compass
That scrapes across the skin
The model suffers for her art
But marvels at the result

Captured for an eternity
She shares an enigmatic smile
Standing tall and straight
As still as a porcelain doll



Moonlight

Moonlight remonstrance
Of a twilight dance
Sends shivers through winter
Blessing in disguise
Chills the epoch of time



Gothic

Gothic glimpses of golden ages
Stricken dumb in unseen places
Giddy up the days in faces
Come and see the wilder traces
Of days once lived and glances
Back.

Journey into the darkest hour
Murder wrapt and bloody sour
Into arms of grim dark ardour
Come and see the wilder fervour
Of days once lived of dusty glamour
Dead.

Scan all the yawning faces scowling
Poor and cold in the daylight yearning
For food and shelter in the dawning
While night unravels winter’s drowning
Of sorrows in ales and dark prowling
Woe.

The fine woman in furs slips her mask
In the light she regrets her one task
That night brings with a single cask
Forgetting numbness come here fast
Lest morning remembers this time past
Hell.

Gothic glimpses of fallen ages
Trembling across unwritten pages
Lived and dreamt on wooden stages
Fuelled by fire and unlocked cages
Come and see the magic of mages
Gone.



War

Acorns in the sand
Grow into bullets in the hand
Wedged still and deep
Bringers of eternal sleep
Smashing a world of hate
That reaps a many splintered fate


Copyright Vickie Johnstone








No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for commenting - have a kitty cool day! :)