Toe Poetry

[labelwench]

A dove grey sky as breaks the dawn,
Both the sun and the black flies, today have flown.
The cool morn air is liquid mist,
To drink it in,refreshing bliss.

The horses greet, with equine voice,
the woman who brings their hay, most choice,
then strides through the grass, beaded with gem,
in her secret haven,at rainbow's end.



Not all days are sunshine and blue sky, yet even when the day is drear, one can hold such memory near...

[melanie]

In dawn and dusk
the smell of musk
fills me with lust
for belonging
I hunger
what I never lost

~ Mel Bell

[labelwench]

Raindrops glisten
on the new fallen leaves,
Autumn makes arrival,
Departing Summer grieves...
As time, in passing,
Her handiwork, ravage..
Comes imminent, Winter..
Cold beauty, savage.

Wipes clean the slate,
with her palette of white,
refecting the stars,
each stark winter night.

Eventually, too,
forced to withdraw,
each season, in turn,
crescendo and awe...

Weep not for the passing
of each yesterday,
For the passing but heralds
a new dawning day.

[Wick]

Chrysalis

Here in my garden
on a stalk of dill
a monarch larva
hanging like Peter
wraps itself up
in homespun linen

The air stands still
yet the crown of seeds
dances in tune
to the larval shroud song
and rattles and stirs up
a memory of pickles

With eyelids closed
I catapult back
past garden and shed
past kitchen and crib
and pliant maternal
tissues of time

And there within reach
pulse vague recollections--
my primordial past
in a jade-colored chrysalis
of shimmering paper--
too precious to tear

Wick

[SteveA]

Lovely velvet violets laying
softly scented, slowly swaying
in a purple perfumed pageant on parade
quiet quivers, slightest shivers
as sun's setting silver sliver
makes a morning glory, more a moonlit maid
~
dainty dresses, quaint caresses
whirling wind in trailing tresses
ballroom breezes briskly tease between the trees
fragile flowers, fragrant, flowing
blooming bowers, bending, bowing
in a frantic flowered frolick 'for the freeze
~
dancing daisies, round a ring
sweeping posies, prance and sing
while windy whirls of gale are gusting, then serene
lovely lilting lilacs lute
flashing fireflies fly and flute
dewdrop drinks on petal platters so pristine
~
sudden thunder shakes the ground
as lightning leaps from all around
and hurried flowers, fleeting fly to hidden huddles
clustered clouds break up the ball
as raging raindrops, flailing fall
to tear to tatters, pitter-pattering in puddles
~
while waiting, watch the muddled mass
who pray and plead, this too to pass
as soon surrounds a soothing silence giving grace
to the dark and dreary, weak and weary
once green grass, now tired and teary
who sleeps in slumber, dreaming dreams of peaceful places

SteveA

----------------------------------------------------

Fairy Lady
________________________
When we were just sprites.
We'd spend the long nights
under the leaves in the eaves of our bower
flittering round the trunk of the old oak;
Little flutters and a choir of laughter

Each dawn, you'd settle in
on your gossamer wings and alight on a bough
of that sleepy old willow, with it's windy sighs,
as we'd greet the new day with gleeful voices,
before setting off to the meadow to play.

You've grown much since then,
and flown further than I
but your wings still look startlingly bright.
you remain such a beautiful sight;
with that graceful ease in your flight.

The sparkling sheen of your translucent wings
(light rainbow spreads of oil on water)
so radiantly stunning,
that leafy garb, flashing eyes
and slender neck of milky opalescence
(still ringed by your grandmother's
charming necklace)
make you such a beauty to behold.

Remembrances of midsummer festival;
musically adorned in a frenzied chaos
of excited voices counterpointing heroic ballads
of ancient empires or blissful romance
all building to a crescendo
as the last bouts of revelry, echoing into mummers
of satisfaction over wispberry wine
and lullifruit pies
bring a flutter to my wingtips.

Wistfully, I remember your stolen silhouette,
backlit by an occasional rippled reflection
off that moonlit lake where you bathed
or the light and easy way you had
of touching me deeply;
with just a word.

Fond remembrances of our sweet innocence;
my dear fairy maiden.
I miss you.

SteveA

[SteveA]

In the void I was born.
Churnings hidden from view by darkness,
coalescing in imminent collision until
these natural attractions, sated in union,
sparked my seeds of life into radiance.
With a violent outcry, and rapidly cooling
temperment, I shone forth for the universe
to see.

As I matured, my children gather round and
have children of their own, all encircling.
My warmth and light give them life as they grow.
Without my guidance, they would drift aimless,
but not all is peaceful, as some of my more
vehement outbursts or erratic offspring
will attest, but each has it's cycle,
and as time passes we become more stable.

Red and bloated, I will lay on my deathbed
and with my final breath, exhale new life
to to the stars. My life's cycle complete,
growing cold in the darkness, I shall await
the end of time to be reborn again.

SteveA

--------------------------------------------------

There is a hidden valley
nestled round by fields of snow.
It's always been quite peaceful there
and where I like to go.
A happy breeze blows through the trees
soft clouds float gently by
the rustling of leaves - serene
and birds sail through the sky.

I like to lay there napping
and listen to the brook
or sometimes go exploring
round the sites to have a look

But there I know a special place
so wonderous to behold,
I know it must be magical
like stories told of old.

There live the little fairies
timid people, oh so shy
that if you breathe too heavily
away, on little wings they'll fly
But if you stay and watch them
they'll come out to play
and have a merry festival
and laugh and dance all day.

Although that's a sight to see
there's even better yet.
Don't move or make a sound
until the sun has set.

Upon the setting sun you'll hear
the murmurs of a sound
that builds up ever gradually
till music's all around.

It's beautiful in harmony
and their little bodies glow.
The song they sing, so beautiful
dancing lights lined in a row.

And here's the part
where in your heart
an urgent need awakes
to join the dance
and with them prance
so strong your body shakes.

I haven't been to see them
in years, I'd have to say.
So sad, I can't resist the dance,
and scared, they fly away.

SteveA

[SteveA]

(Lorrina, I think I have a great poem for you!)

Onward she came
upon thundering hooves
and after her passing,
under the rooves
~
of the low lying branches
the hunters they raced
in rapid succession,
she barely outpaced
~
Light in the saddle,
she could feel her heart pump
exerting control
as her mount made the jump
~
over the underbrush
night ripped asunder
under overcast skies
leaping lightning and thunder
~
Firm grasp on the reins
as onward she threaded
low in the saddle
on the course she was headed
~
Ahead there was hope
and familiar the ground
over which she was racing
through tree trunks she wound
~
as approaching the edge
her stallion, it flew
with her holding on tightly
down a gorge that she knew
~
Here her best hope
to make good an escape
as she wheeled her mount
through a rocky landscape
~
and breaking her gallop
the horse's hooves slid
next to a larger boulder
behind which she hid

...

(I never finished that one, but I figured you may appreciate the subject matter )

----------------------------------------------

Nature said hello to me today
as I stepped out of my car.
A squirrel eating a nut,
held in his little paws,
watched me from arms length.

I didn't have any food with me
as I watched, and he must've
assumed from my shallow cheeks
I was hungry, because he
generously left me
his uneaten half.

[labelwench]

[QUOTE=SteveA;97288][B][SIZE=3](Lorrina, I think I have a great poem for you!)

Onward she came
upon thundering hooves
and after her passing,
under the rooves
~
of the low lying branches
the hunters they raced
in rapid succession,
she barely outpaced
~
Light in the saddle,
she could feel her heart pump
exerting control
as her mount made the jump
~
over the underbrush
night ripped asunder
under overcast skies
leaping lightning and thunder
~
Firm grasp on the reins
as onward she threaded
low in the saddle
on the course she was headed
~
Ahead there was hope
and familiar the ground
over which she was racing
through tree trunks she wound
~
as approaching the edge
her stallion, it flew
with her holding on tightly
down a gorge that she knew
~
Here her best hope
to make good an escape
as she wheeled her mount
through a rocky landscape
~
and breaking her gallop
the horse's hooves slid
next to a larger boulder
behind which she hid

Yes? .......And?.......How does the story end?

Timeparticle, perhaps, will indulge my posting this link, as inspiration for you.

Jessica's Theme, solitary piano with a backdrop of sunset and horses stills. Simple. Beautiful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMR7o...eature=related

[SteveA]

Yes? .......And?.......How does the story end?

It was the first of 3 parts and actually I'd left it having a sad ending. She had been hunting in the King's Forest and caught a pheasant and was bringing it home to her husband who was sick.

She had escaped from them, and made it home, but they tracked her trail the next day and found her husband, with the pheasant that she had brought home, but she'd once again left.

He guessed why they were there and said that he had caught the bird and they hadn't seen her clearly at night so they believed him and arrested him.

She came back later that night and found her husband was gone and that's was where I'd left it ... but then again, she's a strong woman and who knows - there was nothing stopping Part IV

Timeparticle, perhaps, will indulge my posting this link, as inspiration for you.

Jessica's Theme, solitary piano with a backdrop of sunset and horses stills. Simple. Beautiful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMR7o...eature=related

Well that's a good reminder that she's still got her fine horse too. A team like that has some possibilities and she knows the land - she's lived there all her life. The King might have declared his forest, but the "Queen's Forest" is one that's been lived on.

[SteveA]

There lives an old man around here
Though shabby his dress, do not fear
If you give him a dime
he'll tell you a rhyme
as well as to anyone near

There is an old man on the street
with raggedy shoes on his feet
If you give him some smokes
he'll start telling jokes
till you're blue in the face. Quite a feat

There is an old man 'round the town
who's as funny to see as a clown
If you give him a swig
he'll dance you a jig
till he's rolling around on the ground

--------------------------------------------------

My mathematics teacher said
that farming was for me
because only in the world of rabbits
does one and one make three

My history teacher said
"You should be a writer for 'The Star'",
when I said Hercules won the Olympic games
back in '94.

but my English teacher said
"Fast food's a noble fate."
and I look forward anxiously
but can't resist the weight.

My science teacher said
that mixing H2O and SO3
makes sulfuric acid
but I think it tastes like pee.

and the dean must really love me.
'cause he always wants a talk
or read my thoughts in writing
five hundred times in chalk.

In gym I'm like no other,
when I trip or hit my head,
there's only been brain damage
and I never end up dead.

The girls can't seem to pass
me by without a stare
it's my fashion sense, of course
skin tight clothes and matted hair.

And when I stand to give a speech
all the students laugh or cry
saying I should be a comic
and I don't even try.

Some students like one subject
or work hard to get good grades
but to me it just comes natural
being a Jack of all Trades.

And the teachers say I'm 'special'
and treat me with great care
It makes me feel so lucky.
I'm a student extraordinaire!