Category: Writing

The forest banquet

She wandered the forest in the witching hour, a drumbeat in her veins

The tattered dress once of silk and lace hanging in rags on her frame

But this pilgrimage is one to make through the painstaking trek

No-one believes her, but she gives not a care,

They say she imagines things that there’s nobody there

Nodding to themselves and one another about the “silly old woman ” who meets her lover.

She comes to a clearing and begins to dance

Slowly in circles, building up slowly  and losing her years

Till the young girl she stops in mid twirl on a carpet of clover

Behind her a light shines over her shoulder of creamy white skin,

And it comes from within the nearest trees

The table is set with a lamp as she turns,  a long cloth of moss it’s cover

He’s here, and is serving the food, the wine

To the lady in the emerald silk, with the pearls at her neck

Her spinning took her back to the time he was here before

She’s to go back soon but she knows it’s really and truly just fine

For then they will be together for all of the time

The banquet is finished, lights are dim, she sighs

Quietly hugs him goodnight, no words are exchanged

Once again old, dressed in tattered rags she hobbles to her home

A smile on her face and a wave from her hand

She closes the door and gets ready for bed, shabby dress on a chair

Will she tell anyone of her travel tonight?

This time she thinks it’s my secret, they all think I’m mad

But have no idea what they’ve missed by closing their eyes to the light

A life so ordinary

The thing you wanted me to reject so badly to make me better, you said

Was a life so ordinary where the real people live

The world where money and power was both question and answer

But I ask you once more, who is it you’re afraid of?

If it’s ever gained you anything except more emptiness inside

I see you carry on digging like a dog hunting it’s bone

For that thing, that elusive thing to complete your picture

That last colour that changes the image to one of contentment

That will change the drab greys and bathe them in golden sunlight

It’s not so difficult to find the treasure you seek

Stop looking for the pot brimming with gold, riches, power

Just look for the container that looks a little battered and bruised but standing

It isn’t on view unless you take off the blinkers

It isn’t made of precious metals but looks, well, ordinary

All you need is there, the things to make you whole, heal and console

If you stop being afraid of a life so ordinary

Purple tulip day

It’s that time, that day of purple tulips
I can only leave them lying outside the door
For I’m looking at stars and wishing
That I could hold you now as you wish for me once more
I’m ok now, and nothing hurts me at all
Except for the tears I see you shed
When you close your own front door
I have to say I’m prouder than you’d ever dream
Of how you work at carrying on with all the cards
Life deals, though sometimes you could scream
I know that you are healing and my sweetheart, that’s okay
I know also it’s bloody hard
Wishing I had not gone away
From now until forever and I don’t know the time
I shall be so near so close and always by your side
I’ll sign off now and salute you my brave and clever one
Think of me and I am there I’ve never really gone.

Ailsa

Little Miss Roses

Blithely you skip along your enchanted pathway that you’ve strewn with flowers

your world is so rose tinted and looks so clear cut

that you can already imagine the sparkling future with a rock on your hand.

And see what a wonderful time you’re going to make if only you could shut out the showers.

Those dark clouds that will hang over your head

filled with the raindrops your eyes are going to shed

tell yourself with each reality you make there’s something better than this

But never realised have you? They’re ten a penny wishes

like a dandelion that scatters to the wind in the breeze

You’ll canter on like a skittish Arabian horse, nothing to hold your head in place

So you’ll wander to the next and next with syrupy ease

Your so adept within your lie, you even fooled yourself

While you robbed a warm heart of all it could possibly give

with a vampiric ease left it beating slowly on the trodden earth

having touched the body and turned it to stone just like Medusa’s curse

You keep skipping happily along your merry route

For your last victim is stronger than you ever could see

ahead I am watching your rainbow far closer than you had done

I am struck by the fact you overlooked (on purpose?)

that rainbow tinkles prettily I grant you that

But it would, being made from coloured broken glass .

Five Sisters

The traveller stops for a while in his quest, maybe finished, maybe not yet

ahead he spies looming the five sisters who patiently wait

solemn and brooding issuing challenge,

A voice in his head, for there’s nobody there, is casually coaxing

like a bull with the ring in his nose he is led.

Further than he’d been planning to go, just a look to see closer….

a small earthy voice, coated in silk, murmurs

“closer, come closer, we mean you no harm , ignore my sisters they are afraid you see”

Hears himself respond, but her voice comes again

“we are lonely we sisters, here all alone, won’t you just visit our home?”

Nodding he begins his ascent, a grim smile on his lips

the voice keeps telling him how brave and strong for soldiering on

and they’re going to look at him different after this

won’t he’s a mouse or timid again, the mountain lion in him will roar

He hears the sisters all speaking at once but can’t hear their words

till he is instructed to walk slowly along the narrow ledge

and is told he’d be welcome to stay the night

“here we don’t have guests like you all brave and strong, you can always stay, become, belong…”

He misses the sly undertone completely

is flattered by the prettiest speech, imagines eyes of chocolate brown

he’d like to stay here and in them he’d drown

suddenly the singing begins, lilting and enchanting songs

Words of which he has no clue

laying down to listen awhile he sees the mist rolling down

five sisters becoming a cackling throng

Should he stay, this mist will clear and it’s not so noisy here

momentarily, he panics but he can’t see the way

As he plummets headlong into the crevasse he hears a lilting voice

“Relax and enjoy now you made your choice, ” it giggles

“We always knew you were going to stay “.

Written with the Five Sisters of Kintail in mind.

I can only watch helpless

I feel the air crackle thick with the same thing over and over

I watch this charade play itself out , locked in a box of one way glass

knowing the outcome so well before the game even starts

yet I can only watch helpless

I can almost taste the acrid smoke that twists and turns around you

bang on the walls till my fists bleed to make me give in

wonder if maybe this time I pretend it’s not happening again

Perhaps it will just wear itself out and go away like it did before

yet I can only watch helpless

I burn with indignation knowing what you’ve done

remembering the call, with tinkling laughter mocking me

That said you couldn’t make it to the phone

and you’d be sure to pass on my message if you thought on it

yet I can only watch helpless

The merry go round is turning revolving ever faster

till sometime soon it will fly from it’s axis

Flipping you to all you deserve to have happen, does

and I WILL WATCH as you are helpless

fishing dark waters

I see your memories are selected from what you want to be

Not the truth only the folklore you want to be seen as being

slowly your myths are unraveling and the knots in your nets used to catch believers in

come undone under your gaze

unnoticed as you are weaving the next chapter in your tale

self made man, self made myth, selfish

You reel in the gazing face, smiling as you cut to see them bleed

watching for any sign or suggestion they’re not willing to be sacrificed

at the altar you have fashioned in your head

A moments hesitation and you will toss them aside,

victim, unnecessary, obsolete, next please

The truth is known but not spoken for it would pain too much

not you, but your surviving victims

the words one day will be spoken to show you for what you are

a soul breaker to whom the booming sound of raining tears

is music to his darkened shell

there are a few observers who know your game and the truth

do not push too far the end of their patience is nigh

your fishing will end as you become tangled in your own weblike nets

The watchers

Silently observing from the shallow grounds in the darkness

the watchers make their way through the gate

into the night world where you try not to belong

but cannot help retreating there in your own little world of hatred

Do I feel pity for you?

Once maybe, almost twice but not anymore

my pity well has run dry down so low only dust remains

I know how you imagine the world should be

Running on the theory of every man for himself

and the only train on the track belongs to you all others obsolete

Oh I know that little line so well it is like a defunct mantra

I see your lips trotting out it’s wording learned by heart to pass the time

To tell yourself that what you do is good, unwatched and unnoticed

Your words carry on the breeze

into the darkness where the watchers take notes ,and nod silently shocked

At the lack of feeling, comprehension within your being

they watch the empty shell long since evacuated of humanity

one day they will claim what remains and grind it to dust beneath their feet

they advance slowly each day and are not observed by you

they have not enough importance in their aura

but that is deliberate

carefully planned to challenge the unaware and test you’re worth

the place they could transport you to in the light

your place is well secured

you don’t even know that standing in front of you is all the light you need

As your back is turned away killing it slowly

diminishing till it’s too late

Moving on day

So different to any other this moving on day
As I climbed up, packed up,  tried to feel something.
I was expecting tears, fear, sadness
They never showed up at all
I was just expectant of a different life
But no idea what it would hold
Flooded with light and hope for new times
The pretty balloons went off in my head.
Like all balloons one or two burst before time
Others hovered, floating higher as the wrong dreams burst
Only I didn’t catch their slowly moving ascents
Until the many useless balloons (dreams)
Banged with a pop
Flattening me a moment
One day I looked around the sea of balloon sky
To find left a mere handful left
Others all long gone
Leaving only the ones holding hope
Beautiful golden orbs of gold
If you look you might see them too.
So many hopes floating in a sky of blue
It’s a moving on day
If you want it to be look up!

Ailsa

Tauro

Her head nods, silent acquiescence, resigned
To the newness thrust upon her
She knows she cannot accept forever.
Till she can gather her pain and rage
So they will fall like burning raindrops of anger
She will store them safely inside.
The right moment will arrive and Tauro’s storm
Shall break forth from her depths.
The horns grow daily and they will gore the unsuspecting
One who thinks they are immune, invincible
And on a high ground above all others
Her daily forcing away is pushing forth, won’t stay down forever
When she stampedes you will be sorry
The truth will break, hurt and shock you to the core
As your imagined pedestal crumbles to the ground
And all that is left is yourself in the shallows
Where you built your castle of sand.

Ailsa