ruby red ~

19 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

Tags

bliss, breath, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, passion, reason, restless, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom, woman, wonder

her hair was spun
of gypsy moths
and weaved with ribbon
ruby red –
her eyes
a shade of cappucine
gave life to every
dream or dread

she spoke in words
not one could know
a language
only she could speak
a universe
where all was love –
would curse the sailor’s
longing – weak

her fragile hands
a raven’s breast
fluttered soft the beat
of care
a blossomed white
from passions rose –
as essence bloomed
a lover’s fare

she breathed
ten thousand years of light
and knew of things
most men could not
she harbored tears
for moments lost –
and spoke with kind
of love
forgot

what time was hers
no one could say
another birth from dying crossed
what kiss was made
to give away

what ruby red
a gypsy moth

counted wings ~

15 Saturday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling, verse

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

connection, destiny, dreams, forgiveness, grace, kentucky, memory, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, southern, spirit, strength, understanding, value

nineteen twenties
silver dollar –
and dolls without their clothes
quilts were stitched
and still they tore away

coal had streaked
the papered walls –
as black the skirted dawn
hands to work –
fell the night
to pray

kittens cried beneath
the porch –
lifetimes moving forward –
as tempted by our fate
to sweet desire

crooked shelves
and hand-me-downs
as starched the sunday morning
smelled of breeze
and counted wings
of fire

twilight pressed
against the day –
bring the children home
across the fields –
and places lay between

mothers stood
with aprons tied
just beyond the lantern
mouthed a prayer of thanks
for saints unseen

hearts were tucked
and souls protected –
e’er the night be lost
or heaven break
before the early rise

hands were making
shadows –
across a flowered spread
as living held our nights
together –
long before our sighs

untangled ~

04 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

bliss, dreams, faith, family, grace, life, love, reason, relationship, southern, spirit, strength, value, wealth, woman

apart from everything she was
tis more she sits for dinner –
and stays with me
beyond the early show
sweaters born
the scent of moths –
and gems beyond the sparkle
combs that never knew
awaited there

along a stretch of cypress
polished by a wish –
and caught up in the magic
of her eyes –
a fleeting smile
a flash of grace
before the twilight faded
and trapped as she
within the mirrored glass

memories
much more than most –
crystal jars and perfume
shaded now
by aging faded grey
perfect pearls untangled
by the loss of one
the other
and wrapped beneath a net
of window’s wear

decades since we noticed
her words were almost gone
ink displaced by tears
and linen worn
a tragedy of letting be
the music of her voice –
so very few
are left to know
her song

cedar boxes
and old shiftrobes –
blankets more than winter
left beside the hopes
of yesterday
powdered white
the morning comes –
in traces of gardenia

brushed to gold
the weaver’s paradise

reminded of another ~

02 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

bliss, cedars, cherokee, connection, destiny, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, longing, love, nature, passion, relationship, restless, southern, spirit, truth, wandering, wilderness, woman

for a moment
of unspoken faith –
alone among the cedars
and dared my pen confess
of all I see

of light to split
the eager black –
a call to life somewhere
echoes ring of aches
upon the breeze

shadows shift
where spirits roam –
between the bear and afid
surely here –
the honey smells
of wine

where was I
when yesterday –
the need to find my keeping
when took to heart
a path beyond the pines

sweetly as a morning tear
I’m reminded of another
when once I stood
and all the world
was still

pages bent from aged bark
syllables grow silent
cast to words no longer spoke –
longing shall reveal

mists along an eastern ridge
where songs are being practiced –
nightbirds flee protection
by the sun

there as I was started
by these truths I knew before
turns with me to home
before the day
begun

rusted ~

23 Thursday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

bliss, connection, destiny, faith, farm, fearless, grace, life, love, old maps, passion, reason, restless, soul signature, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom

long the days
were dread to nights
and hid beneath the secrets
of times we were together
trusting fate
to intervene

as planks along
the leaning barn –
broken lights and lunas
quiet as a mist
above the pond –
trusted as the early chill
wrote upon the window –
signed our names
so sure the spring
would find us
after all

the failing bliss
of Christmas morn
to hold us down
to treasure –
as auld langsyne replayed
and played again

no more the need
to hurry –
lest our essence
be consumed –
as petals lost to weeds
along the way

would ever I be missed
to every moment I endured
or rusted by my hands
upon the plow

faded now the cowboy
that lived within my curtains
with tales
that served to prove
was here I loved

long the days
we fell into –
the wish for one more
season –
locked beneath the secrets
concealed by yesterday

gathered in me ~

21 Tuesday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

bliss, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, kentucky, life, love, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, soul signature, southern, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

Was not the first
I’d come again…
reeking of woodsmoke
folded near inside my shirt…
names that should be new;
the taste of somewhere else
triggered in the calling.

Silence (clinging) feels the same
a sweet familiar love –
remembered all the reasons
why I left…
to come again
pulling at pieces
truth exposed –
another piece of cloth,
clothes that fit me (still…)
I’ve walked the house once we built –
shaded by the orchard —
Planted small,
and grew into the barn…

Now both
are gone, and I (unaware)
possess the only picture
of how it was…
the broken yard and crooked gate,
cattle nursed by a patch of
weed (and will…)
a swing of mismatched
boards…slouched below
outstretched arms
an oak —
your father planted
(your mother cursed)…

Was there
we loved…
(as no one ever had),
feather mattress
stuffed and stitched (new)
for us, and wrapped
in sacks of blue…
We spoke in hushed whispers
(secrets tumbling)
to the flicker of a flame
burnt the mantle black —
shadows melted (moments)
long ago
(but not so) far…

finished
before the start became
an end was writ…
I never understood…

in the quiet still
before I find you (first)
I breathe,
The world
that I remember…
is again…
a feather swept
(across) my soul;
words uttered to silence;

this –
memory of yet to be
and the smell
of burning pine…

red sky nights ~

15 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

bliss, cherokee, connection, destiny, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, old maps, postmark, reason, restless, soul signature, southern, spirit, truth, wandering

fragile as a month
of mondays
sky lit up with amber shows –
lazy as a dream returning
down these crooked
dusty roads

drop me by
the way to someplace –
wandered home this way before
told myself another story –
I won’t miss you any more

the way so weary
trees were crying –
bowed to bone beside the creek
red sky nights
of ruby ribbon
whisper strung from evergreen

wrote a note
with purple crayon –
pinned it to the lantern’s bright
begged you find me
on the pasture –
counting lives by firelight

first as I and you were
early –
caught your look of sweet surprise
paradise was missing somewhere –
dare I step into
your eyes

asked you not
of plans for leaving –
drew a map to heaven’s gate
told you more
than I could ever
take it back
one word too late

knew their names
each constellation –
sisters
brothers
venus
mars
traced them all as if I never
knew you’d go –
this close
this far

last time forget me ~

04 Saturday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, kentucky, knowledge, living, love, old maps, postmark, reason, restless, southern, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

of those who would know me
the worst would allow –
and pages I can’t bare remember
the last time forget me –
the first one to stay
past the rise of tomorrow
on the thought of today

when the clothes
needed washing
and rent was come due
were fields needing more
that what planting
would do

I begged
for a savior –
a man among men
would come as a season
to know me again
would wake as the lantern
was burning its last
to relive every moment
of loving
was passed
to the vault that would stay
on a cord ’round my heart

a memory of comfort
wishes and lace –
wrapped in another
surrendered to grace
as we were
to forever –
every promise let go
let the crops burn
and weevils take hold –

more here
than heaven –
a paradise thrives
in moments eternity waits
share me the wonder
of morning reflection –
and a lantern
left long by the gate

please ~

29 Sunday Jul 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, cherokee, grace, gravel roads, love, nature, old maps, passion, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wisdom, woman

as sunlight fills
the places ~
just beyond my summer dream
and stills my heart with
wishes for the rain

the steamy breath
of morning fire ~
stumbled from the shadows
and crossed a broken fence
into my way

gold embraced by crimson
weeds and red perfume ~
lacey lace of spinners
weaved for miles
the pass between

breaks my thought
with more than once ~
and where I’ll be tomorrow
spilled against a slant
of crooked board

warmed within a glass
of sugar tea and sweet magnolia
burned the window brown
with summer please

something less ~

03 Tuesday Jul 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

becoming, destiny, dreams, faith, grace, holding on, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom

pardon this
the ill affair
of marigold to mayfly
trumpets folded softly
to the burning of the day

stay the night
that I might tell
of others long since missing
praises once we sang
now silently oppressed

touch – o please I beg you
touch me with your waking
spin for me a web
of words I never heard