Tuesday, 28 March 2017

Turning to Ice
Snowflakes lit by sunbeams
blowing gently,
fragile as shadows
making rainbows in the sun.
Smiling in the soft light.
So soft.
So soft.
Catch them quickly in your hair
to melt them.
Time has past and
they're already harder now,
even though the sun
is still shining and smiling.
Blindingly bright.
Crunchy crystals.
Jewels
glistening still.
Shining like diamonds,
but harsh
in the sunlight
while it lasts
Cooler now as
the light starts fading.
The surface is melting.
Shiny where the sun
still catches,
but fading,
giving way to ice.
Losing it's smile.
And we're skidding, sliding
beyond control.
slipping away,
blinded by tears of ice.

Sunday, 26 March 2017

Soul Searching
Will I find you shining still
among the sharp pinpoint stars
gleaming gold and silver?
Or shall I search the ocean
and find your spirit
buried down there
amongst the sand and pebbles?
Perhaps I should comb the beach
raking through it’s silver grains
and broken shells.
Only your restless soul could
have washed up briefly there.
You never liked beaches with
their sandwiches of sandy bites
and the boredom of sun seeking.
No you wouldn’t stay there.
I wouldn’t find you there.
You were always the deep one,
so maybe I should look deeper,
deep into the blue black night
beyond the white milkiness
into the sweet soft starlight.
There would be a place
for your soul to hide
and I could join you
and rest a while,
a long while
with you

Friday, 24 March 2017

On the Edge
I’m standing on the edge,
on the rim
of the perimeter,
on the outside, looking....
I’m not sure where I’m looking,
outwards over the horizon
or inwards to the inner depth,
the inside of something.
The inner void or the outer space.
Face or about face.
But there’s no confusion.
Both faces are the same,
I think...
Can somewhere be full
of emptiness?


Thursday, 23 March 2017

May Queen

They crowned her the queen of May,
the little girl.
Chose her for her purity. 
Pure and white and smiling.
Unblooded.
Golden curls
held by red ribbons,
and entwined with flowers
topped with sweet smelling may.
Spring is here,
you see.
New shoots springing into life,
so we’re ready to be
reborn and ready to play
the game.
Ready for the circle.
Ready to go
round and round again.
Like the dancers she watches
weaving their ribbons round
the maypole.
The maypole phallus they’ve planted 
in the ground and
bedecked with ribbons.
Red and white.
Red and white ribbons of menstrual blood 
and semen.
Round and round
She watches from her throne.
Round and round.
Then come the Morris Men.
Bells jangling their presence.
Sticks clashing with their power.
Flags waving
to announce 
their virility.
They crowned her the queen of May,
the little girl.
A crown of sweet blossom
and hidden thorns.



First Published by Community Arts Ink, Reclaiming Our Voices, 2015



Wednesday, 22 March 2017

Waiting
I’m not waiting for ageing or changing,
for growing,
restoring, or
recreating
the mask.
I’m not waiting for structures to collapse
and reform
and reshape
and remake
themselves
from the ruins.
I’m not waiting for the revolution
in thinking,
in acting,
in feeling,
to happen
when the walls finally fall.
No.
I’ll dig the tunnels.
Then I’ll wait.
Wait for you
to scramble through
to greet me
then we’ll be away,
through
with our waiting.
online art & literary journal geared towards the healing journey
SNAPDRAGONJOURNAL.COM

Monday, 20 March 2017

Release
I could have come home sooner,
Made the journey home.
but that home would not have been my home.
I could have joined you sooner,
but you would have to leave your home
and join me in a place
that could never be our home.
So I stayed.
I stayed
and stayed.
I stayed
longer.
As long
as it took
for you
to come home
and become the person
that you once were.
First published in Writers Ezine, March 2017
http://mag.writersezine.com/
MAG.WRITERSEZINE.COM

Sunday, 19 March 2017

Bury Me Deep
Bury me deep in the tall meadow grass
and bury me deep in your arms.
Lie with me here in the sun ripening flowers
where the blue of the sky hides the clouds.
Bury me deep in your cool white sheets
and kiss my eyes and my mouth.
And as the warmth of your body flows in to mine
I’ll bury you deep in my arms.
Oh, bury me deep beneath darkening skies
and hold me close to your heart.
And buried deep with our love complete
we’ll sleep covered over in stars.
But the future lies with us heavy and dark.
It has bitter sweet memories of now.
With the tastes of the past buried deep in our love
the tastes of the future are sharp.
I can see both the stars and the blackness of night,
the blindness and brightness of love.
The past and the future cast shadows of time
so bury me deep in your love.
And bury me deep in the tall meadow grass
and I’ll bury you deep in my arms.
And lie with me here in the sun ripened flowers
where the blue of the sky meets the clouds.

http://www.quailbellmagazine.com/the-unreal/poem-bury-me-deep-by-lynn-white