Where roses run

Prompted by Bjorn, a quatern with roses.

 

There are roses running through the barren field

With thorns that tear bright flowers red as blood.

Such wounds a hundred years have still not healed;

And does the dove lie fallen in the mud ?

 

Beneath the howling-beast sky’s tooth and nail,

There are roses running through the barren field,

Despite the falling steel as thick as hail

And the fading cries of pleading, calls to yield.

 

Once these were hills thick-covered in rich weald,

Ploughed bare now, running red in furrows deep;

There are roses running through the barren field,

And round its edges ghostly children weep.

 

Upon the thorns, hearts flutter, poppy red;

The rain and mud were never any shield,

For those whose lives were stolen now lie dead.

There are roses running through the barren field.

On this wild evening of the year

This quatern (?) is for the Secret Keeper’s five word prompt, and it’s as Halloweeny as I’m going to get.

| ROUGH | GATE | RAG | HIP | WINE

 

On this wild evening of the year,

When leaves are stripped in icy blast

And tossed upon the rain-soaked grass,

The door is bolted, windows fast.

 

My heart is dull as ragged clouds,

On this wild evening of the year,

Like cowering mouse, blackbird and hare,

Filled with foreboding, filled with fear.

 

No rose hip wine we’ll sip tonight,

But listen for a furtive sound,

On this wild evening of the year,

When rain-soaked leaves lie on the ground.

 

On silent feet, on wings of night,

I feel its presence drawing near,

We huddle round the fire bright

On this wild evening of the year.

The call of the sea

Another new form, the quatern, for the Secret Keeper’s five word prompt. Based on the Selkie story I’m finishing off.

CLOSE | SAND | DEFEND | STEM | LINE

 

 

I tried my best to keep you close,

Oh child of mine so like to me,

You spring from salt and sand and spray,

In the bloodline of the sea.

 

I sheltered you from those who’d harm,

I tried my best to keep you close,

But you wandered like a wind-tossed gull,

You loved the sea, so grandiose.

 

You found your skin one high spring tide,

Seals day and night they called you, though

I tried my best to keep you close,

You slipped it on, I let you go.

 

I’ll leave the shore and follow you

Among the reefs where our folk chose

To dwell and dance in kelp-strung halls—

I tried my best to keep you close.

The flames leap bright and high

A quatern for Bealtaine

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The flames leap bright and high,

Into the deepening night,

Keeping the old ones nigh,

Bringing them into the light.

 

The new ones mutter low,

The flames leap bright and high,

Black hearts make shadows grow,

Their chants, the shadows fly.

 

Wise ravens’ croaks defy,

Their paltry magic chasing,

The flames leap bright and high,

Down sacred hillside racing.

 

The black ones falter, failing,

We watch their magic die,

The old ones’ fire swords flailing,

The flames leap bright and high.

We are going into the night

G._Bonney

We are going into the night,

Leaving the sun and the dawning,

We are leaving the land of the light,

Where blackbird is king of the morning.

 

Down the river that runs forever,

We are going into the night,

In a boat that will bring us back never,

Gull-winged and shrouded in white.

 

The clouds of our sunset ignite,

In a farewell of fiery hues,

We are going into the night,

Where fire and water fuse.

 

Gull and swan beat the night air,

Leading the boat from the light,

Leaving pain and fear in the sun’s glare

We are going into the night.

Falling starlight

A quatern I spent yesterday evening writing. Another poetry form using a refrain. I altered the last refrain slightly because it sounds better.

 

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Falling starlight breaks and lies,

Upon the roses glowing violet,

Vermilion cloud, a night owl’s cries,

Captured rays of faded sunset.

 

Though in the dark sky moonlight floods,

Falling starlight breaks and lies,

In pools of silver on the woods,

Where the silent night owl flies.

 

Pale wings beating skim the skies,

The scent of roses, where you passed,

Falling starlight breaks and lies.

On bitter lips, a kiss, your last.

 

The fox slips silent, still the hare,

The night is listening to your lies,

The owl cries in the garden where,

Falling starlight breaks and dies.

The priceless pearls that were his eyes

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The priceless pearls that were his eyes

Glitter dully ’neath swaying kelp

Watch the dance of wandering fishes

Finger bones curl beyond all help.

 

Oyster seeded, swaddled, nurtured,

The priceless pearls that were his eyes,

Green weed streamered, sand a showcase,

Where the dark grows and the sun dies.

 

No rays light the barnacle shroud,

Sun shuns the deep place where he lies,

The priceless pearls that were his eyes,

Glint unseen, reflect the moonrise.

 

Dark the sky and dark the water,

Vain nets cast, I lose the prize,

Lost in the murk of wave-churned sea sand,

The priceless pearls that were his eyes.

 

Once we were lovers

 

Quatern inspired by one of my favourites

Once we were lovers, remember?

Time of tangled limbs, sweet madness,

A touch, a word a single glance,

We thought to drown in such sweetness.

 

The roses tasted of the dawn,

Once we were lovers, remember?

Petals crushed among the sheets,

Left a trace of dark December.

 

We never saw the gath’ring clouds,

The darkness on the edge of night,

Once we were lovers, remember?

Blinded by the tender starlight.

 

Honeyed petals all are fallen,

Autumn winds our dreams dismember,

Cold tides wash an empty shoreline,

Once we were lovers, remember?

Walking to the brink of time alone

A quatern in response to the Secret Keeper’s weekly writing prompt.

This week’s words are:

SENSE | SECURE | WALK | TIME | ALONE

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Walking to the brink of time alone,

I sense the silence of the cold stars’ wail,

Black winds howl and through pale gullies moan,

Secure that no one hears their lonely tale.

 

Our handclasp broke, you let me slip away,

Walking to the brink of time alone,

I longed with all my heart to hear you say,

You could not kill the love between us grown.

 

Setting sun and shooting stars still shone,

Filling earth and sky with fleeting light.

Walking to the brink of time alone,

The edge approaches at the brink of night.

 

Dying rays and starshine light the way,

I turn, but through the glimmer you have gone.

I call your name, but nothing makes you stay,

Walking to the brink of time alone.

We had five years left to cry in

We had five years left to cry in,

Before the ice poured on our heads,

And winter lasted a lifetime,

The oceans heaved out of their beds.

 

They said Earth was really dying,

We had five years left to cry in,

I held your face and kissed your lips,

Too little time, love’s assassin.

 

A life condensed to the basics,

Lived in stark black or snowy white,

We had five years left to cry in,

Or we could fill the time with light.

 

Love, hands held, the last songs singing,

Last breath, but beauties still begin,

A perfumed petal filled with dew,

We had five years left to cry in.