When doubts and drawbacks struggle in the mind And certainty seems but a demon dream, When the faith to love is what no-one can find For even when asleep, the mind still schemes When darkness and defeat seem close at hand And lights dim even as we pray for peace when wrecks and ruins rile the native sands When in this life we feel we've lost our place... Then at the saddest depth we see the light Surrounding with such warmth,with love adorned. The path that seemed so wrong now leads us right And in our hearts, warm feelings are new born Within each storm there is a calm still eye From there we see the fiercest clouds blown by
Tag: sonnet
Power or love
One’s motivation may be either love or power.
In truth, it’s there and plain for all to see.
They first admire and plead a lengthy hour
About how sweet one’s offerings would be.
When persuaded that they are open and sincere
One sends them poems like the poems they praised.
Yet their minds are altered ,and in fear
They shows repulsion where they fondly gazed.
To double bind another human soul
To knot barbed wire around their only mind
This action seems not from a human whole
But from a being split and thence unkind
Believe not those who are too quick to praise
Conceal yourself from charmers and their gaze
How like a bird’s nest is my unmade bed
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Photo courtesy of Mike Flemming,Copyright 2015
How like a bird’s nest is my unmade bed
As twigs and feathers from my feet did fall.
I ought to take my shoes off, but instead
I leave them on or hurl them at the wall.As for a lady’s nightgown I do lack,
And wear old vests my dear husband once loved.
For ladies’ garments often have no back.
And fit too tightly, like a rubber glove.For pain and torment some will undergo,
To gain attention from a handsome man .
Yet love is like a fearsome heavy blow
Survive it like an act of God unplanned.So take life lightly though you are enchained
As it is short and everything remains
With this spirit
As on this foreign shore I stand and stare
Across the green and foaming tidal sea.
I do not wonder whether life is fair
Nor whether what’s to come is what should be.
The hinterland is not a wishful dream
Whatever I meet there is all itself.
So useless are past thoughts and present schemes
My courage,heart and spirit are my wealth.
Although alone,I sense some being close
Whom I accept as guide and friend to me.
To walk with otherness is not my boast.
It’s he who guides and shows me how to see.
Thus with this spirit,I my spirit wed
As close to me as in a marriage bed.
Yet by some grace
Not love nor money should we seek to steal;
Nor for self praise and honor be in need
For these things cannot ever truly heal.
And onto a wrong path may often lead.
Not to vice nor virtue must our wills be tied;
Yet by some grace we gently may be led
Our will directs attention which denied
May let our pride control our thoughtless head.
Not good nor bad can track the vane of God
Far from our sightless eyes are his affairs.
Yet Faith and Hope can be a dowsing rod
With Love the force to trace the Spirit bare.
Oh,come down,Spirit,take me as your wife
Fill me with holy grace and with new life
I live so well because you so love me.
In the striking hotness of midday
The bench beside the roses seemed just right.
We sat and talked about the flowers with colour fair,
and whether Love is visible to sight,
The flowers swayed gently, beautiful and rare,
At last the times of joyous summer come.
I welcomed them with soft and gentle stare.
Ah,all too soon dear summer will be gone.
The sun was at the apex of the sky.
We caught the moment like a netted fish.
And as we looked the broad white clouds blew by.
While we enjoyed fulfilment of our wish,
I live so well because you so love me.
And even after death this truth shall be.
When certainty seems but a demon dream
When doubts and drawbacks struggle on the mind
And certainty seems but a demon dream,
When faith to love is what we cannot find
For even when asleep, the mind still schemes
When darkness and defeat seem close at hand
And lights dim even as we pray for grace
when wrecks and ruins rile the native sands
When in this life we feel we’ve lost our place…
Yet at the saddest depth we see the light
Surrounding with such warmth,with love adorned
The path that seemed so wrong now leads us right
And in our hearts, warm feelings are new born
For in all storms there is a calm still eye
From which we see the fiercest clouds rush by
The owl can see with wide and narrow view
The owl can see with wide and narrow view
Focuses that poets and artists knew.
The broad sweep on the canvas makes a place
Where details and designs can have their space.
What God endowed the owl with such excess;
And all her progeny to enjoy bliss?
Is evolution but a narrow miss?
What exquisite accident made this?
Eagles,hawks and owls must kill to eat.
No blandishments nor kindness make them sweet.
What God could make an Eden this deceit;
Where lambs are snatched up while their mothers bleat
So God himself destroys to fill his leisure;
Such fearsome revelations show his measure.
…
For serious words are death to married joy
My eye has fallen on your funny face
You look so dear I cannot shift my gaze
Both love and humour cherish and embrace
Your skin and smile and on them gladly graze.
My tears have fallen on your fine made hands
As you held me to comfort and caress
And on our fingers are our wedding bands
Which symbolise that union God blessed
My nose has sniffed the honey of your smell
My ears have heard the your much desired gruff voice.
My fingers know your crevices so well
my toes all tingle as in need of vice.
For serious words are death to married joy
And so my humour I shall now employ.
Bother me no more with reveried bliss
No sight is like the rising of sun
When promises of dreams seem clear and still
My heart though sore ,can fancy love has come
Without hard times and exercise of will.
No morning is without new dawn of hope
When all our conflicts may be put aside.
Imagination is far flung in scope,
Never noting dreams may fraughtly lie.
No love is like my long lost love for you
Once known,once felt,it settles in the heart.
Yet I do believe love can be found anew
But only when the lost true love departs.
So bother me no more with reveried bliss.
Go leave me with my life,though all’s amiss
When my love lies
When my love lies and doom hangs over head,
When life runs like a river to the sea
Then shall I take new lovers to my bed,
And with their carnal touch consoled be?
When my love lies,and breaks my tender heart.
When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path.
Then, shall I my life of evil start?
And on this world shall I bestow my wrath?
When true loves lie and wrecks all loyalty.
When puzzlement makes all my world seem mad.
Then I shall upend causality;
Console this world with deeds which make me glad.
For I have love’s own child inside my soul
And I shall tend her till at last she’s whole
As unknown as the journey to your birth
Was this the apple,then,your mother’s breast,
Which father thought was his to oft caress?
And when,in deprived rage,you bit to test,
In answering rage he vowed to you harass.
So then you learned that you could hate as well,
For punishment struck hard in your small heart.
Your memory was unworded,could not tell;
Though pain and anguish made your soft skin smart.
As unknown as the journey to your birth
As shocking as the grief of unmeant wrong..
As frightening as the gauging of your worth
As sudden as the ending of a song.
Impossible to foretell or to prepare;
The ambivalence of our love is hard to bear
The fertility game
While girls are born with ovaries replete
And only must each moon let one release
In contrast men are fast and incomplete;
So many sperm are fighting for their feast.
The overspill of nature ,profligate,
condemns vast numbers daily to their death.
And of the one success, men may debate
Of whom is father to the new born breath.
Why this abundance and this frequent loss?
How nature provides much in rich excess;
Is even pre-conception a mere toss?
Shall chance favour the slower much the less?
While men pour out their wealth and are filled up,
Women wait with patience for one drop
Where our consolation is
When others acts push splinters through our souls
And into strangers ears we pour our woes..
When grief and sorrow shudder thriough our walls.
And whether all is lost we cannot know
When what is in or out we cannot tell
When fantasy and dream become confused.
When darts of agony are felt to maim each cell.
When sensibility is utterly bemused. .
He ,in whom I to trusted, wills to fail
For what he claimed was friendship was desire.
Now pain and disappointment make me frail;
With torment know this person was a liar.
Then, having lost all other means to live,
We turn to darkness where our consolation is.
My scheming heart

Sonnets

Source: Katherine


My error
Love grows richer every passing day



When first I saw your limpid pale blue eyes
That held me with a merry loving look
I then fell into love without surprise
Without consulting people or a book.
My heart was struck and rang out like a bell..
Like crystal struck by silvery rod or spoon.
And yet I hesitated,you could tell…
Is love a treasure or a road to doom?
For in the past,love’s robbed me of my soul.
I gave so much and gained not at all.
But with your love I felt I could be whole…
Free from those whose very touch appalled.
The sun looked down and smiled upon your face
As we held each other in a tight embrace
The mirror of our souls
And what I do to others makes my soul.
But myopic,narrow gaze can wreck at start
The chance of growing to a greater whole.
But see projections of live fantasy.
We do not like to linger long in doubt
Fearful of what true sight will make us see.
we fit them to a picture in our mind
and if the fit is wrong we feel a blow
As if the world itself has been unkind
Perception’s just the Latin word for see
A tangled briar
I have no teeth and combless I remain
My hair once silk is now a tangled briar..
Men gaze on me with ruthless cold disdain
My visage will no longer spark their fire.
I have no mind and so I cannot think
I cannot love nor hate now as I tire.
Yet runs my nose and do my eyes not blink?
Where is that man with care and white desire?
I have no heart,or it turns cold and hard.
Yet soul I have and spirit and my sight.
At life’s long game I fling down all my cards.
And ask for nothing but a means of flight.
For beauty withers as my wisdom grows.
And none observe the circling of the crows.
Knitting my day together
I knit the rhythmic pattern of my day,
the complex stitches make me sure to err
and yet I have no fear for on this way
I knit or unknit with my calm and care.
With warp and weft both in their rightful place
with right and wrong accepted and allowed
I knit quite slowly,saying no to haste.
I worship with my truth and am not cowed.
As I go back to fix a stitch which is not right
No longer do I castigate myself..
For in a flash I saw as if in light
That to and fro are both a part of health.
For now I know we all at times must fail
Such is the truth of our life’s measured tale
Like a leaf
-
I feel my soul is trembling like a leaf
that clings on in the worst of a fierce gale
yet will drop into black mud far beneath
though briefly through some sunshine it may fall.
I am as nothing trodden into earth
And lower than the lowest living beast,
I make no estimation of my worth
and for the worms I shall provide a feast.
At first I thought that I could ride the storm
That I could live without your circling arm
But truth has taken hold of me entire.
The choice is death by mud or death by fire.
I see I am now trampled with earth’s dust
No more to be an object of mere lust
Illness is a plot to slow us down
Illness is a plot to slow us down
when God sees we are about to catch him up.
His face is covered by a thoughtful frown…
till he bestows with love the poisoned cup.
For speed is alien to the human soul
we have to live as slowly as hearts beat.
If rushing on we may miss our life’s goal..
Running down some long and rain filled street.
Step by step across the dangerous flood
On stones placed there by patient long gone men.
With care,perception guides us to the good
but haste leads often to a tiger’s den.
Beware impulsive speeding in your mind
For out of this come many acts unkind
Rocks bestrew my path
When true love’s gone
and doom hangs over head,
When life runs like a river to the sea,
Then, shall I take new lovers to my bed,
And with their carnal touch consoled be?
When true loves lie and break my woman’s heart,
When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path,
Then, shall I my life of evil start,
And, on the world, shall I bestow my wrath?
When true loves lie and wreck all loyalty;
When puzzlement makes all the world seem mad;
Then I shall upend causality
And let myself do deeds which make all glad.
For I have love’s own child inside my soul
And I shall tend her till at last she’s grown
Love,the word
Now love is not an easy word to use,
for excess talk has torn away its soul;
In cards and letters,we must stand accused
so where love dwelt,there’s now a widening hole.
And if our language changes, what’s the cost,
when life departs from words that meant so much
or is there something permanently lost
when hands and pens have lost the way to touch?
We soon forget what loving used to mean
We change to fit our fractured complex realms
Till we are now as fractured in our schemes
and what once was,seems never to have been.
Yet there’s a remnant found in art and song
Which we can capture while our spirits long.
Yet another lover leaves my bed
Or isit that my eyes have known their spite?
I tempt this sin with all my female parts.
They feel I’m like a spider with a bat,
to cure ,devour,digest my ghoulish pests,
They think they should be learning on the sat.
But some who mind me feel they have been robbed.
I give them all detention,I’m a liar.
I give them generous fare and sing sheeps’ songs.
I give them comfort like a hellish fire
Oh,come back ,bad boy ,don’t desert me yet,
The clothes I thrashed for you are not quite set
The memory lasts
midsummer days evoke entrancings past
where children played in joyous, daisied fields
with buttercups so bright the memory lasts
a freedom that our conscious growth will steal.
those stones and leaves and many coloured flowers
were gathered into images that glow
yet later we forget those treasured hours
when for a while we lived in life’s deep flow
we did not look and see,but felt at one
we lived as did the birds high in the trees
now we see and write yet experiencing has gone
we no longer live like flowers filled with bees
to lose ourselves in nature is a joy
which to our adult selves we must restore
For the worms
I feel my soul is trembling like a leaf
that clings on in the worst of a fierce gale
It will fall into the mud so far beneath,
though briefly through bright sunshine it may fall.
I am as nothing, trodden into earth.
And lower than the lowest living beast,
I make no estimation of my worth
and for the worms I shall provide a feast.
At first I thought that I could ride the storm
That I could live without your circling arm
But truth has taken hold of me entire.
The choice is death by mud or death by fire.
I know well I’ll be trampled with earth’s dust
No more to be an object of mere lust
That introverts desire a private place
How like a prison is my cubicle.
Yet I feel safe enclosed in this space.
‘Tis often claimed to be indubitable
That introverts desire a private place.
We suffer when with crowds and noise we mix.
We suffer from wild talking and blind eyes.
We suffer from the exrtroverts cruel tricks.
And ponder long on wherefores and on why’s,
Life can be so painful we retreat
We jail ourselves to gain some mental peace
Yet all the world’s our pleasure and it’s sweet.
So can a prisoner gain their own release?
An introvert is like a wild,trapped cat,
Which blindly scratches those on whom it’s spat.
Cubicle
How like a prison is my cublicle
Where I await the medic on his rounds
I bite my nails and chew their cuticles
But take care not to make a single sound
Were I to don this backless gown supplied
And lie uncovered on this small hard bed.
I feel as if someone will think I’ve died.
And like a book I will remain unread.
Alone and naked like a new born child
Or like a suspect in some secret jail.
I must keep hold of thought and temper wild…
No cries,no screams,no not a single wail..
How easily we ‘re plucked from normal rounds
And hurled into a maelstrom with no bounds
Now speaks the sacred earth


Now speaks the earth of spring and all its joys.
Now flowers and blossom soothe our lonley eyes.
So happy are the lovers,girls and boys,
As in the daisied meadows they may lie.
Now speaks the sun and makes us want to grow
to open like the flowers for his love
To let the life within us start to flow.
With blessings sent down to us from above.
Now every part of nature is in flood
Fresh leaves point down from trees to holy nests
The birds are active in this little wood,
And dwelling on the tree branch breast to breast.
Oh let’s not waste time brooding on our thoughts.
For we may miss the joy which spring has brought
We’d soon do that which men and women can.
The rain fell and the clouds hung overhead
As I walked on the moors to meet my man.
If only we had access to a bed..
We’d soon do that which men and women can.
The sun was absent anf the trees all bowed down
The wettest winter for a hundrd years…
Yet full of love ,my face displayed no frown…
My heart was brimming,absent any fears.
Th moon too was watching as I ran
Her silver crescent pierced the clouds like joy.
I could not wait to meet my loving man.
And with his lips and face I longed to toy.
But when I reached the spot where he would be,
Nothing waited but a fallen tree
True love’s vision
Discovered by a new perception of our life.
Our vision is less skewed by pain and wrath,
We see in true proportion and true size.
And asks for nothing but the eyes to see.
The violence in our bones and in our blood
Is less and with creation we agree.</p>
Just hope of satisfaction tempts us to progress.
To God or to a loved one we draw near.
And as we walk we find anxieties grow less .
Acceptance is a way to make this naught




