For as long as I can remember, I have been captivated by clouds. No doubt this love was greatly enhanced by the fact that I grew up in the American Midwest, where some of the most spectacular cloud formations in the world are the daily norm. Hours upon hours of my childhood and teen years were devoted to lying on the ground or sitting on a high vantage point, watching everything from cotton puffs to monstrous storm cells move overhead.
(I haven't posted a poem for quite some time. This is a poem I wrote a couple of months back. It's short and sweet, and I didn't really put much effort into writing it. But still, I do hope you enjoy it!)
Padded feet crushed the snow
The glaciers ahead matched her eyes
Ice-blue, with a killer glow
She waited
Her magnificent fur dusted white
Her hunger to hunt grows
Even in the blinding light
She waited
(This isn't really a poem, but I hope you will like it anyway)
I had imagined,
A starry night, an ethereal whisper whisper of wind and the deep, navy blue sea
Where tiny waves reflect the moon's rays
The scent of pine trees and salt engulfed me.
I had imagined,
My knitted, mauve top over my cold body,
My denim shorts leave my legs bare, absorbing the ivory moonlight
I'm running, leaping, spinning.
I had imagined,
The jade green and hibiscus purple burst out into the twinkling sky
They call it 'otherworldly'--
the nectar-colored sky
behind the blackened front
of the approaching summer storm...
the sunlight and the rain that come at once,
dripping gold...
the sighing of the wind among
the youngest of the trees...
the stirring of the lake
beneath the water lilies...
'Otherworldly'.
I laugh at them--
at the narrow minds
that speak of other worlds but cannot grasp
the wonders of their own,
who cannot fathom sun and rain at once...
or a nectar-colored sky.
No time for tea and sympathy
heading straight for the brink of sixteen
it’s been over a year, suddenly realizing,
since playing at some imagining.
How long it’s been since sticks and arrows
how long since paper planes
how long since flags and carboard houses
how long since spying games.
No time for books arranged in series, for
each year in between, growing up more
suddenly standing at the library door
finding the characters two years younger or more.
Sleepily pass the days
of all seasons,
slowly on the year does trod
for those who are confined.
Muted, people move
across dim, buzzing screens
so silent
its enough to make them scream, the confined
Young and old,
both can be prisoner to their years
but the middle-aged still yearn
for the age before, and yon
Even a slowly-paddled boat
is adventure on the sunny river
and slow talk and watercress sandwiches
amounts to an extravagance of life,
to the confined.
Thanks for the idea, Bernadette! I love Narnia. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe movie is fantastic! And as are the books, of course! (I was disappointed in Prince Caspian-so far off the book!)
So anywho, this is my adventure in Narnia.
When the grass grows long and thick in the back,
We run through the yard; it before us expands
It becomes a forest, a tangled wilderness
filled with the things that inhabit our dreams
Owls in top hats, falcons and lightning,
the little folk in their tiny wood homes
Wigwams and tree forts, catstles and kings
towers and caves filled with mysteries untold
wizards and horses, the wind that can speak
and tell me all the places it's been,
and all the things it has seen
Brave heroes, cunning villians,
Let us rule in places fair
Come along, the road is wide.
Our hearts are brave, our cloaks are made,
Our horses saddled; wave goodbye.
Let me take you far away
I’ll bear you to the stars.
We’ll travel by a road of rainbows
Paved by morning dawn.
Roses then will be our guides,
Clouds our beds for sleep,
Trees and sky our closest friends,
If you just follow me.
A world of stories lies beyond
Songs rise on the wind.
I’d much rather fly then walk-
Will you fly too, my friend?