Thursday, December 30, 2010
Between two endings
And two beginnings
The dying year pauses to reflect
And take one final breath
This year, even Winter
Seems to be taking stock
Her grip of ice and snow
While the kingly ghosts of Christmas
Diligently wear out their welcome
Outstaying family, outlasting leftovers
Lingering on and on
And the precious gifts they bring:
Joys and sorrows
Hopes and fears
And above all: love
Memories of past love cherished
Present love enjoyed
And future love anticipated
Labels: christmas, poem, winter
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Soft beneath my feet
Hushes my steps.
Still falling, it dances
Hovering on the breeze
Clinging to branches
And drinking in the light
Draining the colour
From everything it touches.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
I see them from the corner
Of my mind's impatient eye:
A host of glittering prizes
Full of promise and delight.
I could approach them crabwise,
Try to capture them by stealth,
But that would make them scatter,
Disappear without a trace
To leave me clutching feebly
At the tiny motes of light
That, whispering of wonders,
Are left glimm'ring in their wake.
Instead I'll sit here waiting,
Clinging fiercely to the hope
That one day I'll be granted
More: a glimpse of the sublime.
That, like a dainty fairy,
One will settle on my hand
And share with me its secrets,
Let my earthbound thoughts take flight.
Until then I'll watch their dance,
Enjoy my sense of wonder,
And toil with what rough tools I
Have on countless hopeful schemes.
Saturday, December 04, 2010
My muscles voice their protest, creaking into life,
As, pulling on my running shoes, I brave the cold.
Not many other hearty fools have ventured out
And those few largely dragged by dogs or grim resolve.
The world, a half-blank page, awaits some restless hand
To ink back all the details lost beneath the snow.
The lake is gone, its depths consumed by hungry ice,
But the river flows on darkly under brooding skies.
My legs are still complaining, but my head is clear,
The murky haze of sleep dispelled by cleansing cold,
And as I turn for home the dark clouds start to lift
To hail the sun's arrival with a dainty blush.
Labels: poem, running, winter