eyes

The Masquerade

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

 

she is dressed like an angel
she is so perfect
he thinks
she may sprout wings
flying away in a moment

a heart is embroidered on the cuff
of his well-worn sleeve
it’s enough that she sees it
examines the finely made stitches
and smiles

he sees her eyes
clear, gentle, kind
as she flutters her swan feathered fan
across her lovely face,
a beating wing
allowing a glimpse of her mind

he wears a masque
his eyes, not well hidden,
bewitch her, and keep her there

the music is enchanting
they dance in a dream
tentative touching
they begin to open their hearts
in this harmonious dance
all is agreement
that this trance is worth keeping
preserving, defending, completing
even for life

in the morning
the music has stopped
the masques are removed
he bows, revealing his face,
he sees all that shows
beneath her smile
she curtsies with grace
they move away slowly
one unwilling step at a time

 

 

People Passing By

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

sitting in a summer street beneath a sunlit tree
people passing by
fleeting thoughts showing in their eyes,
eyes that hold delight, dismay, disbelief
this moment, in this day,
memories flooding in, fading, flying, dying
the growing gravitas of this ones frown
shuffling feet, passing through the shadows
children running, laughing, shouting
a shoal of flashing fish, sparkling,
crowds parting,
flowing and repeating

i see her passing
she is thinking
can i buy that dress today,
what will I wear tonight
is my hair alright,
she sighs
i see her sorrow
does all love fade and die

a man stands alone an hour
gravity weighs him down
his feet deep rooted
i could go and greet him
a simple walk across the street
a meeting
the moment passes

i stay beneath my sunlit tree
watching how a leaf falls
the summer hours are fleeting

The China Doll

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

the china doll stands on a shelf in the corner
kept behind glass, protected from dust
her painted face stares out with blank eyes
her fine silks faded by sunlight and years

she was bought to this house by a sailor
a gift from a far away port, long ago
picked up when he thought of his woman
waiting for him with patience back home

the china doll was a token a love
kept for years in a kit bag in war
she is a survivor of many sea battles
with never a mark on her beautiful face

but he went away and never came back
the china doll is all that is left
she has been easy enough to preserve
his life was as fragile as the china doll looks

the china doll stands on a shelf in the corner
while all around her life comes and goes
she is changed now from token to heirloom
her origins forgotten, no longer known

 

Acceptance

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

what peace there is
by the fire in the evening
as we sit in a circle together
what joy there is in simple things

late into the night
the firelight glows
i feel my heart expanding
in the blessing music brings

the stars shine high above us
and in all the eyes
i see all around me
that same light shines

after all, most of all
when all is said and done
the stars will all still be there forever
and life is the song that we all share

The Soul is King

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

As large as the universe,

as small as our individual hearts,

joined as one,

manifest in many parts,

the blood of every woman and man

rises in the trees sap

and on the birds wing,

held in the throne of water and air

we live and die,

the flames of a fire.

The Soul is King.

 

We in our tiny lives,

brush against each other in passing.

I know my brothers and sisters

by their smiles,

by the light that shines in their eyes

and their glances,

by the stories they pause to tell when we meet.

 

There is an older wisdom

that stir in our dreams,

unnameable,

unbreakable,

that which binds us,

passed as a torch,

hand to hand,

written in stars

and the shape of the land,

the land where the Soul is King.

 

The Hunter

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

This is the tale

of the hunter and hunted.

Night gathers and winter is here.

We find any fire to warm us.

 

We travel

seeking a home

a place away from the cold.

We settle, we live,

we move on, to return

We meet in eternal dance,

patterns change yet stay the same.

In time we meet again

 

As the stars appear

in the midnight sky

I see the light that shines

in your widening eyes

those well known eyes

I have seen before

 

When all journeys

are over and done

this beacon we lit

will guide us home

The Food of Love

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

i set the table squarely
on four firm legs for strength
covered with a sky blue cloth
a cloth of embroidered dreams
i place a plate of wholesome rice
the grain that will sustain you
and fish for all the secret of the unknown deep
a side salad of green leaves for growth
and olives for endless peace
all dresses in lifes rich herbs

in the centre stands a vase
a red rose for passion, a white for purity
a sprig of honesty, lovingly preserved
and the dark leaves of rosemary
for times remembrance

above the table, light shines
the light of open grace
a light to fill your days
and shine upon your face

you will bring the wine
it sparkles and shines in your eyes