Monday, October 12, 2009

Autumn's Lullaby 1

*** This was a quick poem written at 3:30 this morning. I'm tired and long for hot tea, some stitching, and a bit of rain. Instead, I wrote this rather nonsensical poem and will turn in. I'm not worried about the uneven rhyme scheme or any technicalities, really. I just needed to write. Forgive any spelling errors: I'm very tired!

Goodnight,
Lily

*~ Autumn's Lullaby 1 ~*

Gray mornings wet with rain ~
sweetly scented apocathary:
ease my pain;
(hot steam
in China glass,
bundle of yarn)
this day too shall pass
but regretfully for I
long for this Autumnal lullaby
to last.
Child's voice in mother's ear
no one else needed - leave us here.
I'll be your witness
I'll be your cathartic plan:
small fingers grasping mother's loving hand.
Ah wait, do you exist yet, dear?
I see you but only in my dreams,
ever-clear.

Chimney smoking
like incense and fog
I wear my heart lightly
like will-o-wisps in the bog:
dancing 'round travelers
weary and old
I open my arms now
to release the Gold
of this dark, dark morning
waiting for light
waiting for someone
to end this night.
Bring out the needles
bring out the cloth
bring out the candle
watch the dance of the moth:
so airy and gentle
he flutters and flies
whilst I sit here sewing
through Autumn's lullaby.

What do my words say
that I stitch through this silk?
A love poem or sonnet?
Keats, Rumi, or Rilke?
No they say nothing
nothing at all
they speak more of silence
and of small dreams grown tall;
they speak of a household
and a child in the womb
they speak of my dreams
of the depth of this tomb
where sadness lies buried
and hope flies around
and swirls through the eddies
of my Soul: this devout
murmur of praise
for the life that we covet:
for the gladness of living
and the sweetness of love.

So this hot tea is easy
on my tired, dry throat;
and this sampler is empty
of words so remote
from the Language of Love
that I just left it white:
the color of innocence,
the Keeper of Light.

Blooming tea set Pictures, Images and Photos

~picture from photobucket of msbre26~

Needle and Thread Pictures, Images and Photos

~picture from photobucket of wegie4~

3 comments:

  1. Beautiful. You should write more poetry. There is so much soul in it.

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  2. Thank you!!!! I love poetry, but I have to be in exactly the right mood for it to turn out. This was written very randomly while I was almost sleeping - the time when, like a drunkard, my true feelings emerge in rather haphazard states. ;)

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  3. Thought I'd check your blog...glad I got the chance to read this.

    Let me first say that every hair on my body came to life when I read, "Child's voice in mother's ear
    no one else needed - leave us here.
    I'll be your witness
    I'll be your cathartic plan:
    small fingers grasping mother's loving hand.
    Ah wait, do you exist yet, dear?
    I see you but only in my dreams,
    ever-clear." I got another charge reading it again! There is life in these words, Stella - as in they are spiritually alive. There's already a sweet soul who knows you as mother; be patient and know that she (at least I'm feeling a she) will one day be in your arms.

    I like the spacing; the free form works well with your choice of words. And, please have more confidence in your writing...you can forget about explaining apologies at the gate: I shall be praying for you on this one ;)

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