I now have a book of over eighty poems available on Amazon as a paperback and also on Kindle – the title is The Moonlight Lamp
Author: A. Gouedard
A trapeze artist under house arrest
She
arches
her back,
lying down,
and wriggles
her toes,
murmuring
to the
cracks in
the ceiling
in foreign
tongues.
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They put a spell on me (because I’m mine)
weird people
Tomorrow – a rubaiyat
The stars of the heavens are clear and bright.
I stand here alone, looking up tonight.
The song of the nightingale fills my heart
Ecstatic soloist, brings sweet delight
A softened light shines from the crescent moon,
At dawn it lips the ocean in a swoon.
All night I watched awake, we are apart.
The treasured morning cannot come to soon.
The scent of roses fills the dawning air
As I walk out in peace without a care
Amidst this new-born darling of a day
Where all the fields are newly fresh and fair.
You bring a smile, a word, a tender glance.
Tomorrow’s here and all the world’s a dance.
The sky is blue, the clouds have cleared away
And I am dreaming in a golden trance
Ghazal ~ Not the Moon
When happiness eludes us in the dark,
dying in the wane, forsake not the moon
It will wax again, shine its silver light,
the turning tide will ache. Not the moon.
When spring is young and full of love, the sun
brings pleasure, gladdens day, wake not the moon.
The morning chorus brings us new born day.
Birdsong floats above the lake. Not the moon.
It is dawn above the soft horizon
that will our tenderness untimely break. Not the moon.
When Venus orbits high above, my love is in
my arms again, the night, delight, take not the moon!
Dear Wilf
There was a Raven called Wilf
Fairly quiet, he kept to himself,
‘What do you do all the time?’ I asked.
He blinked his mirrored eye.
‘What do you expect of a bird?’
he said, ‘I observe, observe, observe,
and I fly when I need to fly.”
‘And does that make you happy?’ I asked
He nodded his head, ‘Oh yes,
my happiness is complete,
far more than you could ever guess,
but I also like talking to you
and dropping a seed here and there.’’
I smiled, ‘Ah yes. Your troubles are seldom and few.”
Questioning the Raven
I watch the Raven
the Raven watches me
me stuck here on the ground
him high up in his tree
he cocks his head
does he question me?
wondering how i should answer
I nod back
I feel some sense of brotherhood
with this bright eyed bird
when he squawked and chuckled
did he think I understood?
who knows more
a man or a raven?
was he a man before?
will i become a bird?
if I knew the mind of a raven
maybe i could fly
if he thought he knew my mind
would he fly away?
I feel the need to speak
feel the feelings that are his
does he see how fragile
how unfathomable everything is?
does a raven even care
and should i?
i cock my head to the raven
he nods back
Stargazing
In about 1975 I was briefly in hospital in Truro and there I met a lighthouse keeper. His light was somewhere off Lands End – I don’t recall exactly where but I asked him a lot of questions and was sad to hear all lights were to be automated. I would have liked to think that one day I might have done the job myself but the days of lighthouse keepers were coming to an end.
It was for this reason that I recently read Stargazing by Peter Hill (available on Kindle). He worked on three Scottish lights as far out as the Hebrides in that era and so, although a young man then escaping from art college, he must have been one of the last. It’s a great read. He has a very natural writing style and the book is full of anecdotes and the dreams of a young would-be writer, as well as full details of life on a lighthouse and the workings of the light which conjure up a vision of fine engineering and gleaming brass. I recommend the book.
Doors, Corridors, And Lessons Learned
worthy of a read – as is much else on this site
The Dreaming Path 