Month: April 2017

Nectar goddess 

She’s a rock so she’s been told 

The granite you would lean on sharp unapproachable?

Or the marble which promises warmth if only you touch 

To radiate heat through it so sure that beneath 

It’s surface runs some sort of ichor that you alone 

Will find, set free 

Needs a good man to pierce her outer layer 

With an arrow to set free the fire within to make her warm 

Oh no she chooses to be impenetrable 

Since the hurricane which destroyed her almost 

When she decided to mask herself unless she pierces 

Her own skin by choice to show the flesh inside 

Ailsa 

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2016

Palette of time 

Hardly able to breathe and skin tingling 

She watches as it creeps forward 

Awe filling her very being 

Almost as if its unsure of welcome

It begins to glow 

Not certain of how open to be 

In trailing upward tendrils her escaped breath moving 

Small wisps not disturbing the movement 

Legs sinking down onto the dry earth 

No knowledge of her descent 

And closer, brighter it moves 

She couldn’t shift if she wanted to 

She doesn’t, 

Won’t, can’t till it’s ended 

Fierce hues spring forth envelope all 

Flames licking the trees and they succumb 

Grateful or compliant? 

Crimson to purple all shades combine 

A palette of vibrance alight 

Alive 

As the sun dies through the trees once more 

Ailsa 

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2017

Wings of the storm 

You pushed, pulled trying to mould me into shape 

Clay on the turntable forgetting, ignoring? Not caring 

The flesh bruised, bone splintered, blood spilt 

Eyes that didn’t cry  

Not that you saw, not that you felt 

As sobs were swallowed deep and churned 

Tears silently rolling down into the vortex 

Moving faster, bubbling, burning 

Sometimes aching from wishing on stars, pebbles, anything 

That just might work 

Till the time when the storm brewed enough to explode 

Sending me forth to a new world on tides unseen 

Roads not travelled and water never crossed before 

Propelled away from your mean smile 

That once appeared shy and urged entanglement 

All you wanted was nothing real 

A picture fractured into mirror shards 

To break me with 

Scarred, damaged by things tainted 

Broken? 

You imagine too strongly your power 

Bloodied wings I thought clipped teaching me to fly 

All over again 

And I soar 
Ailsa 

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2017

The time of last 

Knowing it’s the last time they savour it 

Every sense alive and desperate to devour 

Force themselves to eke out each morsel, crumb, sight, sound 

To etch upon memory for when there’s 

Nothing, none, all gone 

Living on memories shrouded in silver light 

The little things ingrained and sharpened 

Did they say this? Feel that? 

Were parts harmlessly imagined 

To apply a balm to the wound an ending day brings 

Does it matter if the essence is unchanged? 

If the truth is polished like glistening silver 

Perfume from flowers which bloomed longer 

In images they create to remember a brighter day 

They look only to replicate a better future 

So let them make it their perfect 

Their wonderful may be your mundane 

Does it matter if it glints a shade brighter? 

Illuminating the end 

Allow the poet license, the storyteller space 

All of us have a tale to tell 

Tell it your way with grace to return the same favour
Ailsa 

©AilsaCawleyPoetry2017