andrew149 Poetry (264)

Reflection of a full moon on a soft velvet sky,
Reflection of a lover standing nearby,
In free fall the mirror strikes the ground,
Reflections shattered, though there is no sound,
As surface tension overloads,
Silently…..The teardrop….Explodes!

Tiny flecks of gold, in eyes of truest blue,
Blonde locks, idly, with fingers twirled,
3d on a 2d world,
Perfect picture you.

I remember days like this,
The laugh in your eyes,
Dreamy smile...... To entice,
Prelude to.......A loving kiss.

What is truth and what is lie?
It’s harder to work out the harder you try,
Even if two people see the same event,
Something simple, or a miracle, heaven sent,
If both then write it down,
Two different records would then perplex, make you frown,
Even though both will tell exactly what they saw,
It will always leave you needing to know more,
Both will be telling the truth, but not the same,
As if they’re both telling of a different game,
Then we limit ourselves, though neither is trying to deceive,
Only one version of truth will suit us to believe,
You can watch it twisting into majority opinion rather than fact,
Though no others were there to actually witness the act,
Strange how one simple thing boils down into two, binary,
Though odd, we take it to be ordinary,
The whole world and our lives revolve,
Around this one question we try to resolve,
One or nought, truth or lie, yes, no,
The simplest truth is hardly ever the way we want to go,
We’re always looking in between black and white for that shade of grey,
And when we see it we adopt it as our own truth to say,
So, whatever you see, tell, the beans you must spill,
For, whatever you relate, some will take it well,
And others? Well....They will take it ill.

Ever tried self hypnotism?
C’mon, look past that layer of cynicism,
See the reflection,
Practice a little self collection.
Forget the deep creases in your forehead,
The spot to the left of your nose,
Just look into your eyes,
You’re not here to straighten your hair,
Or strike a pose.
That’s it!….
Straight into those big beautiful eyes,
Past all the acting, self deception, and lies,
Great…Now we’re getting there,
Feeling relaxed?
Deeper and deeper,
Know that.....
You are now both the watcher and the watched,
That….You are your own keeper!
Know that, you are getting it right,
Dare to look down that dark tunnel,
See the light!
You’ll get there, you know that you will,
Now…Hold that thought for a moment….
Stay perfectly still….
I am going to count to three….
And when I click my fingers, I will be awake,
Be back to me!

First…..I’m gonna be decisive….No I’m not,
Oh!….What a load of tommy rot,
Looking at the empty page, swimming before me,
Faint words, appearing, disappearing …..So fast,
Obviously…The ghosts of resolutions past,
None, ever meant to be.
Like…Smoking…I could quit,
Through at least one opera sit,
Smarten up, shave every single day,
Oh yes!….Backgammon…Must learn to play,
Or, I could….Stop thinking of things that are probably,
A personal impossibility,
And for the whole of the next year, have fun,
Carry on…Just Being Me!

Come children, quiet now, gather round,
Shhhh,….. Do you hear that sound?
Do you hear?….
Do you see?
There!….
That slight rustling of the leaves,
Oh yes….This is a magick tree,
For….This is the entrance to Faerie Glade,
By very strong magick was it made,
And, beyond that tree? A magick door,
Into another dimension, where there really is,
No ceiling, walls, nor floor,
Just, what is in your imagination,
Will bring your senses to an orchestration,
A picture of what you think Faerieland is,
You will see,
And, you will find,
Hero’s where you least, expect them to be!
Ahhh….. If you only knew,
That place, has it’s dark side too,
A time when wicked Wizards and Goblins fought,
Did more bad things then any being should or ought,
When, Faeries and Unicorns joined against them in war,
When the fiercest fighting took place,
That any being ever saw!
But….Never fear, for good will always win,
Otherwise t’would surely be a sin,
For, how could good children ever sleep at night,
If evil won out and left them with fright?
So, if you are pure in thought and kind in heart,
Have the courage?
Then that is a start.
Step forward….Come with me,
To a different world…..
Where Faeries, Wizards and even….
dreamweaver, on a dragon,
Might be…..
Each and every one a Hero,
As you will see…….

Stygian layers, almost intangible….. Merging…Shifting,
Dark on dark, like quicksand, sinking, lifting,
Time and distance bending,
Creating a place of no substance, beginning or ending.
Evil incarnate, two colours of black,
Two dimensions joining, back to back.
Re-opening now the forbidden door,
Once thought to be sealed forever more.
Prince of Myrkwood, with Prince of darkness meeting,
After a wager that one lost by cheating.
Now in the liquid swirling darkness,
Two plotting how their combined evil to harness,
To bring their revenge, that they think will be so sweet,
Upon a Viking and Elf, that had won the last battle, in a way so neat,
Also upon Odin himself, whose helping hand had been clear,
Plotting too, how to bring him near.
Two thinking, the reason for their losing,
That the wager was at a time and place, not of their choosing.
This time, battle would be joined far above the ground,
Where little comfort for humankind can be found.
And so with much hate,
Two plan to set the trap with bait.
It being forbidden for a God to fight,
Directly with the Prince of night,
They gamble, that Odin will the Viking send,
Once more his honour to defend,
Now it seems, Vikings short lived peace will be no more,
Mayhem will rule, as two sides go to war,
And this time they wish Odin’s loss to be hard,
For they want no less than the keys to his beloved Asgard!

Again...it is now in this time,
Though, follow another line,
The future, yet now...The past for others,
On a little island, a band of Viking brothers,
This, for their leader, a sleeping, waking dream,
Blurring the boundaries, so things are not quite as they seem,
And further back, now a different time, an Elf sits on the windowsill,
Casting a spell to stop the creeping darkness that is....
Myrkwood......Still

The sun lies lower in the sky,
Midst dark streaks of cloud,
That heaven sets fires beneath.
As the leaves brown,
The summer dies,
And does a different world bequeath.

Shorter days and longer nights,
To prepare us for colder times,
With warm memories to recollect.
Of, beautiful flowers, song of bird,
And so often affairs of the heart, or,
Azure lakes, that will soon with ice reflect.

Another year it seems has come and gone,
The waves harder pound, the wind now blows,
As I walk along our beach.
I just think of the good times we had,
The memory of your smile keeps me warm,
My dearest friend, only just out of reach.

And though the winter we must endure,
Have courage in the darkest hour before the dawn,
Very soon will come our spring.
When we’ll happily shrug the shrouds of dark,
Smile happily at the blue sky and sun,
Know through it all we had faith in each other,
Hand in hand, and, that’s the thing.

I was the child, now, man grown,
Reaping what so long ago was sewn,
Still striding through unending night,
Toward tomorrow, that far off pinprick of light.
Oh my comfort,
Night….Shadows reflected on the walls,
From the flickering of a candle bright,
Sound of scratching…Quill on parchment,
Echoes in the halls,
As I continue my quest of sorrow, and write,
Of the failures, the triumphs,
The humps and bumps,
Tears of happiness,
Tears of sadness,
Staining the parchment, blurring my sight,
So I see not the words,
Who will read them, who will care?
“Not many”….You answer…..
My apparition of love standing there.
“For they have their own path to follow,
Their own plough to furrow,
Their own mistakes to make,
Their own love to take or forsake.
Just be thankful, for what you had once yourself,
Stop that lonely scratching with the quill,
Put your writings where they belong on the shelf,
Then, one day when you have the need,
Take them down, reflect and read,
Maybe then you won’t feel the same,
Forgotten the pain, feel ready again,
To take your place and rejoin life’s game,
Where, there are truly no losers, or winners,
Only saints and sinners,
Depending on which way you look at it,
On which side of the fence you sit,
So…Lighten up, lessen the load,
Instead of writing all that sorrow,
Scribe yourself a brand new code”.

I stand at the door…..I toll the bell,
Having inched along the razors edge,
As it opens, I feel the welcoming void,
The darkness of the wishing well.

Not, a he or a she but, an it,
Whether you stand or sit,
It stalks unseen, rather, felt,
Whether you are in the bath or, in church, knelt.
Heartbeat, quicken,
Listen…..
Is that the echo of your footstep?
Another set? A neighbour, merely walking a pet?
The dark, becomes more a threat, than retreat,
Footfall again?….Echoes repeat.
Don’t help the invisible terrorist, face it square,
Try to be brave, act, like you don’t have a care,
Face unseen stare, with stare, in kind,
Don’t let it play with your mind.
You WILL find, strength you never thought you had,
When you embrace good, gone will be hurt and sad,
For good, will always, always, in the end….
Trump bad.

To dream, now there’s a thing!
To, let your imagination free,
Let it take flight,
Like a bird on the wing.
To, reach for that star,
Hope beyond all reasonable hope,
Hold in your hand, that which is unattainable,
Or, is that a wish too far?
Be the one who dares to dream
Who dares to soar on the storm,
Dares to reach for the stars,
And, things will not be as impossible as they seem.