fly

Mercurial

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

Some loves truly do last forever,
even when the pathways sever

In storybooks
and paintings by pre-raphaelites,
the lonely Knight,
so tired and pale,
forgets his questing for the Grail
and kneels in poignant supplication
gazing at the ivy growing
on the statue, carved in stone,
in honour of a gothic wish
treasured by his lady, lost.

but not all Knights can stay in books
and this Knight has mercurial pride ~
he doesn’t hide,
he mounts and rides,
and holds old love,
a living thing,
beating still inside his breast~
a love that lingers,
doesn’t dwindle,
doesn’t cling.

He doesn’t rest.
Some may think this Knight accursed
but it’s a blessing of his birth.
His feet have unrelenting wings.
He learns to fly.
He yearns to live
and not to die.

House in the Wind

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

out on the ledge
the wind stampedes,
bending the trees to the east,
forming newborn dunes on the beach,
as the moon pulls the roaring tide
thundering in on the rocks
and the dark clouds roll above

I don’t want to be inside
I want to ride
I want to spin
I want to throw my arms out wide
and scream

witches may fly here tonight

but if i must go in,
let it be to the ancient house
where the hawthorns bend and bow

let it be through the trembling door
where i left the key before,
where the hearth is built of granite
and the chimneys whistle and moan
and the fire almost gutters out

may the mountains loom as dark sentries,
to shelter the crumbling walls
as the land sinks down in terror,
beneath the quaking floors

may it stand,
as it has for three hundred years,
battling the wind

nothing will die here tonight

Woops! Let’s go cavorting! (silly one)

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

woopie-doo-dah, doo-dah-day
let’s fly, and fly, fly far away,
over the hills, a far flung thing

who’s to reason or wonder why?
i see no reason here to stay
i can hear the fairies sing!

have you forgotten we once flew?
the hour is late but not too late
i have a wish for morning dew
and mountains high
and rushing rivers wide and deep
and the holy grass beneath my feet
deep in the woods
where the shadows play

come prepared
follow the hare
spin three times
bow to the moon
here comes the breeze
here comes the spin
whirling like leaves up to the sky
the wind that’s strong will lift us high
but don’t let it blow your top knot off!

Clock-tower Dance

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

The clock tower stands to mark the time
It’s stood so long, it’s lost its chime

Three-six-nine the goose drank wine
The monkey chewed tobacco on the street car line

Six girls lean against the rail
Time drags on, a slippery snail

Clap pat, clap pat, clap pat, clap slap
Slap your thighs and sing a little song

Swings in the park and a witches hat
These six girls, too old for that

My mama told me if I was goody
that she would buy me a rubber dolly

They look at the rings in the jewelery shop
And flirt with the boys but they don’t stop

My aunty told her I kissed a soldier
Now she won’t buy me a rubber dolly

Five girls here will stay in this town
And trade their lives for a wedding gown

The line broke the monkey got choked
and they all went to heaven in a little row boat

One is going to fly away
She’s waiting, waiting for that day

Take your partners hand, slap back
Clap pat, clap pat, clap pat, slap

Departure Lounge

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

some people get stuck in the departure lounge
they bought a ticket because they needed to get away

tired of the same old country they wanted a holiday
but there they sit, surrounded by baggage,

imagining the home they left, they locked the door
now they wonder if they left any lights on back there

nothing but that thought keeps them sitting
it all seems so out of control

but the ticket and boarding pass are ready
tucked away in a pocket, they paid the fare

no-one is waiting at home, wishing they would come back
they are as free as a bird, yet they sit there in despair

leave the baggage and board the plane
no country is the same, go look

some are better
some worse

don’t even send a sad postcard
there’s a whole new world out there
forget the past and go

Dear Wilf

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

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.”