When last I blinked it was the summer

Merry in its gold and green

I turned around and it’s September

Almost passing, gone away

I remember spring when it was here

Like I remember yesterday

All was new, the world was blooming

‘twas but a moment, now it fades

I still am young; how will it be

When my moment passes and youth is gone?

Will I still be holding out my feeble hands

Trying to stop the march of time?

I am yet young, but my thoughts are ancient

Many ignore death, but not I.

I see the years flying like money quickly spent

And know that soon the time will come when none are left.

Oh me!  I would but stop the pass of time

If only I had strength in my weakening hands.

Copyright 2008 by Cherise A. You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem or post if you reproduce it.

One word on the page

One word, all alone

A fragment of meaning

A thought half-begun

Words have the power

Of description and memory

Feeling and thought

All bound up as one

They can bind and release

When they stand side-by-side

But when there is only one…

A dream that was strangled

A thought, now forgotten

A word, but if only it was more than a word

Then we would know

Then we would feel

We would recall another’s memory

 But as it is…

We are lost

In a sea of could-have-been’s

We can guess, we can wonder

Only to watch

A half-born thought

Evanesce before our eyes

Copyright 2008 by Cherise A. You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem or post if you reproduce it.

Emerald leaves

Dancers in the winds of change

Life was theirs; they made the forest

Seem to breathe

In the winds of time

And I remember they had voices of their own

A sea of dancing, whispering emerald

See the glimmer!  Though the wood would sleep in peaceful shadow

There was light still, golden light

That fell between the leaves and made the shadows deeper

And the leaves brighter

And one was lost in emerald

Light!  Rays of heaven!

There was vibrancy

Still, so still, a many-voiced silence

Louder than sound, louder,

Until the ending of time, that voice that was beyond the silence rang

Stronger

Until all clamor was drowned out and there was peace

All this, as I remember

In my heart, more than in my eyes

That pulse: why I weep at every sunrise

Why I hear the river and I am gone

The sound, the voice that speaks beyond all voices

And though silent, is heard

Why can men long for what they haven’t seen?

They feel the memory that none remember

The song that is beyond the world, that pierces moments, and we weep

We weep for what we do not understand

We see more, we see beyond reflections

And for a moment glimpse the forests of another world 

Copyright 2008 by Cherise A.  You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem or post if you reproduce it.

Her tears mirror starlight from another world

Starlight, silver essence, longing immortalized

They fall in tiny rivers, shining rain

To melt into the surface of the lake

In her heart she sees the starlight from another world

And weeps for what seems close enough to touch

Stars!  Lovely Stars! O piercing eyes of light

That yet are separated by a thousand worlds!

To breathe! Her heart would break ‘fore she could cross

The barrier that rends her soul apart

Would that the worlds break!  Would that the stars fall

Down to meet the surface of the lake

Down to her, let their glow alight upon her eyes

Let her feel their song for one last time

Please, tell me what you think!  I am not afraid of constructive criticism!

Copyright 2008 by Cherise A. M. You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem or post if you reproduce it.

Write with the passion of a roaring flame

Write with the hope of a new tomorrow

Write like the wind on the jagged peaks

Write like the rain that falls

Write, and your words will be like eagles

Write, and rise on a thousand wings

Write, and you’ll remember how to breathe

Breathe deeply; the rain is falling

Write!  Let the one who reads your words

Feel the light of a thousand sunrises

Taste the wind on the jagged peaks

And hear the rain that’s falling

Copyright 2008 by Cherise A. M. You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem or post if you reproduce it.

In the quiet of the waking

Shadows slowly

Whispers deepen

Silence in the dawn-rays

Grass blows gently

All becoming

Trees sigh softly

Almost gone

Gone away

Wind that dances on the prairie

Sing for joy!

Sing the song!

Birds that welcome in the morning

Join the song!

Sing along!

As the stars describe the nighttime

So the light describes the song

So the dawn

Copyright 2008 by Cherise A. You must ask me before using any of my stuff, and my name must appear along with the poem if you reproduce it.

In the deep forest Aenywroe

Dark with shadows, yet pierced

With sunbeams, made golden-green

By the leafy, vaulted ceiling

Like a gilded necklace worn

By a raven-haired maiden

And with equal worth

In the endless twilight of Aenywroe

In the silence of a stillness

Of nobility asleep, of quiet watchfulness,

Of sacredness and holiness undisturbed

Of what a restless man cannot understand

For he is never still

Much deeper, and infinitely higher than the commonplace

Let the still heart and soul with wisdom understand

The sound of thoughts flowing is that of the stream

Peaceful, with little waterfalls

Dark with shadows, yet reflecting

The green-gold light that wanders through

And the sky-hued faces of the bluebells

Growing thickly on its banks

Like brilliant stars in a midnight sky

Are those reflections on quiet water

And of equal worth

In the ancient silence of Aenywroe

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Note: Aenywroe is pronounced Ay-eh-near-oh-eh.**

I hear the stars singing

Glorious song from of old.

I behold the moon giving light

To all the children of the night

They who can never stop listening.

The wind comes to me

Faintly, as I lie in the grass

Of the silent mountain clearing, faintly;

A taste of a sweetness beyond.

I listen to silence and hear more;

A whisper, a rumor

A shadow and reflection

Of the beautiful country.

Morning, a soft gold breaking

On the pure blue of the sky;

The essence of all that is new.

The green grass lies fresh

And damp from the dew.

A gentle breeze treads by

On quiet, calming feet.

The wind chimes play a soft, enchanting tune,

And it seems that all is a fairy world.

What magic is this, which makes 

Each dew-drenched spider’s web

Seem spun silver set with diamonds?

All is pure beauty, and I am still,

Quietly delighted in what I see.

I behold mountains, shrouded in a mist

That dances slowly in, swirling deliberately, around;

Revealing hidden valleys, rugged peaks,

Then concealing them again behind a veil

Of tiny water droplets.

Oh, the peaks that I shall never learn to scale!

The valleys I shall never see again!

To never know the rain that falls

On yonder tree-clad slopes!

A forbidden land to me, hidden now forever

Behind a veil of mist.