Despair night

Feverish demon fingers,
Curling, clenching, clawing.

A long drawn moan
A beast wounded, the fight is done.

Despair night, rolling down the hill
Like a consumptive cough.

The stars wink down, content,
Far above from the beast, the demon, the fog.

Lives unnumbered, have been crossed by the stars,
Have the stars too been crossed by their lives?    

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry, 

   I am not there; I did not die.           

                      

                                                      -- Mary Elizabeth Frye

I came across this first in a favourite light read of mine, Alan Titchmarsh's Rosie. I love the serenity of the poem. It's sad, but it soothes too. Sometimes.

I Never Knew- II

 
I never knew...

How dreams can flutter,

Like fairy lights

Draped over ancient trees.







As part of the "I never knew" series. Each one a small spark of emotion, a moment suspended in space. First one is here.

Photo:http://s1.favim.com/orig/11/blossom-fairy-lights-madamelulu-tree-Favim.com-178046.jpg

Brown Eyes

If yours locked into mine,

Two pairs of browns,

Would the silence talk

Of you and of me,

Safe

In a fragile safety,

Loved

With an inflamed hatred,

Destroyed

By a violent innocence?

If yours locked into mine,
Two pairs of browns,
Would you find me pretty
Burnt, broken and beaten
Alive in dead flesh
Dismantled
Disfigured
And Disillusioned?

If yours locked into mine,

Two pairs of browns,

For the space of a blink

Or of a century

Would you hear me plead,

Silent, tortured, hungry

To let me love you

Just one more time?

Was written for someone I haven't found yet. Hope I do. If I don't, oh well.