I was listening to the wrong station - I got coffee and yoghourt.

An Elf's Invitation

Come listen to the Elvensong,
Let melodies convert you,
Receive the things for which you long
Like pleasure, love and virtue,
From stress immune,
Our forest tune
Can heal when others hurt you.

Each song tells of some miracle
That blessed the olden places,
Each one of them is lyrical,
Revealing unknown spaces
Between the trees
Where sunset frees
The pain within sad faces.

Describing green and ancient bark
With mandolin and lyre,
How in the deeps of sylvan dark
Tall branches do inspire,
How autumn weaves
Their fallen leaves
Into a dream of fire.

And when the music's done you'll think
Of oceans in calm weather
To heal the soul and then you'll drink
Strawberry wine, whenever
Your teardrops fall
You will recall
Our Elvensong forever.


©

Marmalade on toast is my favourite breakfast

Very lovely - it's sort of religious don't you think?

I never thought of it that way, but I think you're right Biz. Maybe it's the healing tone of the words

Brontë Land

Alone, a wild hawk soars,
The Yorkshire silence roars
And ghosts leave seances of thought
Across these bleak-faced moors.

Grey clouds loom overcast
Like capsules of the past,
Here stone absorbs the march of time
And clings on to the last.

No area forgives,
This desolation gives
The wind a voice that should have died
Yet wuthering, it lives.

I turn into the sleet
Where moorland spectres meet,
The hawk has gone, the ink is dry,
The poem is complete.


©

Cor! I bet you were glad to get inside, close the door and sit by a roaring fire with a comforting drink.

Always Biz, always

The Maze

The maze had kept me searching
For so long that my mind
Felt ripples of discomfort,
No exit could I find.

Created just for pleasure
And fun on every lap,
But when it will not free you
A maze becomes a trap.

Its hedges seemed enormous,
They must be eight foot high,
My spiteful captors looming
Against the English sky.

All corners here I noted
Yet no solution came;
As I went round in circles
Each turning looked the same.

Frustrated by the constant
Directions I misjudged,
There is no way of counting
The weary miles I’ve trudged.

Like some poor fly the web caught,
This green labyrinth is mine,
Repetitive, unchanging,
I hate its vile design.

As night begins to tighten
Imagination’s noose,
I’m sure I hear the footsteps
Of killers on the loose.

With no means of escaping
And no alarm to raise
I lie down claustrophobic,
Imprisoned by the maze.


©

A classic nightmare - I hope I don't have it tonight, or tomorrow, or ever.

Come to think of it, it's a bit like being trapped in the "Religion/Mental Illness" thread. I eventually dipped my toe in, but no one noticed. There are some very clever people in there, but commonsense sort of deflates the argument - which after all is why most people are there

EDIT: Wrong........again. They will argue until their last breath, and never get anywhere.

A very good analogy Biz, I know the thread and it does tend to go round in ever-decreasing circles Real mazes have always fascinated me and I find them faintly sinister.

Nice, Musty.

Ta Sandy - I watched a bit of The Lord of the Rings the other night. That made me dig up my old elf poem

I'm pretty sure I've been in one in the dim and distant past, and isn't there a theory that if you keep to the left, you eventually find the exit?

The only kind I'd go in now is one that's designed for children, where you can see over the top........... Come to think of it, I probably wouldn't bother.

A maze seen from above can give insight to it's workings, so don't let it worry you Musty, a Maze grows only if you let it do so.

I have no idea Biz. The maze in the film The Shining is really scary. It's probably affected my perception of them over time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ley9k94GoZU

Lord of the Rings is a long Trilogy, are they showing them all on the telly?

How strange you should mention that Sandy - watch my YouTube clip


Yeah, on Film 4. There's one on tonight too I think.

Astronomer

Another day reluctantly surrenders,
Now night has come to claim the open skies;
No cloud and all is ready,
The telescope is steady
And once again I'm here to feast my eyes.

The Milky Way is mine alone this evening,
From Mars on to the universal brew
Of stars beyond pale Venus
With nothing in between us
But light years and the lens I'm looking through.

Eternal wheels we cannot reach are spinning
With our world just a speck amid the show
And should I glimpse a comet,
Though many eons from it
I’ll be enveloped in the afterglow.

I wonder if there’s life on other planets,
While staying certain of the thing I love;
To gaze with fascination
At every constellation
That orbits in the darkness up above.


©

Masterpiece after mastepiece Musty. Loved the afterglow bit.

Haven't had time to read the thread. I'll get back to it. Gone to read 'Astronomer' again. Thanks.

Thanks very much Archiver An actual astronomer read the poem and liked it, so I was pleased with that

The Crow

I saved Louisa’s velvet dress
At which I often gaze,
With her departure life meant less,
I drifted through the days.

Divine Louisa, young and fair,
My tears fell at the grave,
I kept a strand of her long hair,
And stayed her willing slave.

One night as I mourned in a room
Confined by sorrow's chain
A noise awoke me from my gloom;
Taps on the window pane.

A silhouette there caught my eye,
A bird as black as ink,
What did this visit signify,
A need for food or drink?

I stared into its opaque eyes,
Observed the dark-plumed frame,
The crow who shocked me, soft and wise
Announced my dead love's name.

The whisper of 'Louisa' tore
My heart and still it haunts,
Why must I always hear once more
That bitterest of taunts?

The crow left and a ghost I chase
In dreams of mournful trips
And when I see Louisa's face
I kiss her frozen lips.


©
 

I guess the birds have flown.

I've changed the word 'mournful' to 'nightly' Biz. 'In dreams of nightly trips' flows slightly better and hints of a recurring dream, which suits the narrator's obsession.

Time for a new page