You.
Tender-hearted, gentle
And always on my mind
When the turmoil leaves me reeling
Yours is the hand I find
——————————————————————–
The End of Days
Sorry about this one, it’s a bit apocalyptic. If the darling muse doesn’t bring me a dotty old woman or a naughty teen or something soon I really will be reduced to erm well,
There once was a lady named Sin
Who liked to dance and drink gin…..
No stop me, okay… serious now…
The End of Days
For many years we closed our eyes,
denied the truth, the fears, the lies.
It’ll never happen you can bet
this present government won’t let
us all be finished. It’s their job
to keep us safe and not to rob
our children of their future lives
and us of all we worked for.
But that was then and this is now
it’s come and we can all see how
they let us down, it’s them to blame
why, they should hang their heads in shame.
And they should pay the piper.
They told us not to fear the worst
They said the planet was not cursed
and spinning out of time.
But here we face the end of days
The final gasp of the human race
The reckoning, The judgement
Are you ready.
————————————————–
The River
We sat beside the river
For the day was still and hot,
A day of bees and butterflies
and you said you loved me not.
A day when every heartbeat
Called forth an endless pain
For you told me you were leaving
And would never come again.
I sat beside the river
In the bitter winter cold
A day of snow and storm cloud
And I watched the year grow old.
I had waited through the autumn
Through the gales and in the rain
But now I see that truly
You will never come again.
I sit beside the river
In the springtime of the year
And I feel our baby moving
for the time is drawing near
when the love we had together
will become a precious pain
and in our son or daughter
I will see your face again.
————————————————————–
Villanelle – Blimey that was hard.
so the Flash poetry thread I am currently enjoying gives us a challenge each week. Hence the Sonnet a while ago. This week the challenge was to write a Villanelle.
I had never heard of one. Sorry Stephen I know it’ll be in your book The Ode less Travelled but I haven’t got to it yet. The form is very very specific.
This is the instruction we were given.
Five stanzas of three lines
One stanza of four lines.
The first stanza sets up the refrain – with a non rhyming line between.
This refrain is repeated – as the last line of stanza two
And as the last line of stanza three so they skip to the bottom of the following stanzas in turn and then in the final stanza of four lines, they make up the last two lines. The middle lines of each verse rhyme with each other.
If you have read that you see my problem – in fairness to lovely Cariad who runsthe thread she gave us an example.
I love poetry. I love my computer. I almost ended up throwing the thing out of the window. I just couldn’t get it, it made no sense to me at all. And yet, it had to be possible and the work that people were posting was lovely but I just couldn’t do it.
Suddenly, it clicked into place. It’s like everything else, once I had it I couldn’t see why I had been so dumb.
Anyway. This is the result. I was quite proud of it to be honest.
Flight
The geese are leaving in the evening light
I want to hold them and not have it so
Beat on beat on into the endless night
My life goes with them as they take to flight
Skeins and ribbons in the fading glow
The geese are leaving in the evening light
The stars are glimmering like diamonds bright
The moon will soon put on its magic show
Beat on beat on into the endless night
I watch them now until they’re out of sight
My eyes are streaming as I see them go
The geese are leaving in the evening light
I won’t be here to greet the new spring flight
I feel my heart now as it starts to slow
Beat on beat on into the endless night
I watched them soaring in the shadowed height
I feel the life force cease its vibrant flow
The geese are leaving in the evening light
Beat on beat on into the endless night
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The Queen of Heaven’s Child
Tis said the Queen of heaven’s child
Was taken by a tempest wild.
In grief her eyes cried endless tears
Which fell on earth for countless years.
And so the ocean deep and wide
Swept the globe from side to side.
And under water fathoms deep
The land of all the world did sleep,
‘cept on a mountain ten miles high
A house whose chimneys touched the sky.
And there below the moulding eaves,
Resting on a bed of leaves,
The missing babe did slumber on,
Till all the life on earth was gone.
All save the wandering Albatross,
Who flew where heaving waters toss.
And when they found the missing child,
And saved him from the waters riled,
They flew on wings of grey and white,
Up into the heavenly height,
And gave the weeping queen her son,
And told her what her tears had done.
And so she bade the Albatross
To fly the oceans right across,
And beat their wings to dry the seas
From tropic sand to polar freeze.
And they must take no time to rest,
Nor make a home, nor build a nest.
So on and on and on they fly
And not until the seas are dry
And all the land is found once more
Can they rest upon the shore.
But what, you ask is their reward
For taking babies heavenward
Well, they have no need for gold
And freedom can’t be bought or sold
And so the wind, the day and night
The moon upon their wings in flight
A curious beak and flappy feet
and all the fish that they can eat.
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The Case of the Fight in the Big Top at Cullopmpton-on-Rye
Sparkely Sue from Balwhinnnie
Worked at the Circus of Light.
She mucked out the camels each morning ,
And danced on the highwire at night.
She was gorgeous in flashing suspenders,
In diamantes and sequins so gay.
At six forty five every evening,
And the pensioners, cheap matinee.
Now, Walter the big top erector,
Had a secret inside of his head,
He fancied the pants of our Suzie,
And wanted to take her to bed.
He tried to entice her with flowers,
To woo her with chocolates and cake.
But Sue was determinedly single,
And regarded our Walt as a Rake
No, no she would cry with emotion
Whenever he leered at her bum.
I shall never allow your advances
And whats more I’ve told your old mum.
But the truth is a little more sordid
Than Suzies high flying ideals.
She had lusts of her own towards Nigel
Who worked in a tank with the Seals.
She admired his manly demeanor,
His pectorals, specially when wet.
She wanted to be his beloved
But hadn’t quite managed it yet.
The case reached a nasty conclusion
One night in Cullompton-on- Rye
When Walter found out about Nigel
And gave him a thump in the eye.
So whenever you visit the circus
And it sweeps you away with delight
Remember performers are humans
And the magic is only at night.
