Poetry: Fainting Spell

I drifted off to sleep
After years of standing still
The sun arched over me
Like a soldier marching
Head slouched forward,
The arms gave way
Chin kissed the counter,
The music gently played
A spell, a trance
Fell over me
Spiriting me away
To a land of no worry
I feel out of bounds
Dancing in the night
Floating and swimming
In comforting darkness
Eyelids lift slowly and blink
Unable to focus on
The world around me.
To which world did I return?
No fear, a string around
The ankle keeps me
In the right space,
like balloons in a child’s hand
Fluid dreams, fainting spells
I’m paddling through reality
and a wonderland
Of forgiveness…
***

Poetry: September Wind


Remember the old days around a camp fire when each person took turns adding to the story? Well, what if two friends did the same thing but in the form of a poem? My island friend Peter and I did just that over the past five days.
The results? Read for yourself:

S: The wind combed through the branches and low lying bushes to grab up the dead and recently fallen, blowing them around in whirlwinds.

P: As the ripened thistle does as the Buck dashes through the field in flight

S: Your words, old friend, effect me this way, removing the dross from my character. Your whispers like fire, your love as rays of life, bring a renewing with every caress

P: That brings completion to the unfinished works, of an unfinished mind, while soothing the unfinished soul,

S: Oh you have finished me, the plate is empty
Bread brushes along in circles absorbing any morsal that remains
I sit in front of an empty plate
Thinking back to our time in September

P: The world is ignorant, but awakening. Patience.

S: The world is closed and knows it’s time is ending. Patience.

Thanks Peter!