Stags

In a clearing in the woods, two brothers fight.

They ram each other, wrestle with their pointed crowns.

The winner gains the power and the right

To rule their father's ancient, sylvan grounds

And will have the favor of the fairest doe.

So they lock their antlers, tearing from the start.

The loser has to face the snows alone.

A solitary creature is the hart.
But come the winter, brothers lose their crowns
And in the spring the hope for better years abounds.

Ice

The lustre of your silvery eyes

Outshines the winter waters, cold

And has a cool, familiar air

That only snowy blankets hold.

Safe and soothing, blue like ice

That glistens on a glassy lake

In mid-December while at home,

That's showered in white, snowy flakes.

The majesty of winter storms,

The power in the blizzard, white,

Is there, behind those frosty panes

And reveals an inner might.

That cool, familiar, soothing air

That only snowy blankets hold

Is well protected by this gale

When circumstances need you bold.

The powerful, majestic storms,

The blizzards in their wintry might

Are safe and strong, are reassured

By one unfailing, snowy sight.

The mid-December time at home,

The water tucked in glistening flakes,

Reflected in your ice blue eyes

Is soothing, cool, like glassy lakes.

Mouse

You can't be rough with mice.

If you are, she pays a price

For putting you inside her trust.

She must not see your smile is naught but dust.

So while you have your rowdy fun,

She wants to cower hide or run

Toward her safe and cozy place,

But mice can't outrun dogs and tomcats in a chase.

But you don't care, or you don't see

She's given all her heart to thee.

And so you bat, and paw, and chew,

Because mice are not as strong as you.

You must be strong for a mouse,

And build a safe and steadfast house

Inside a proud and sturdy chest,

On which she might just place her head and rest.

But you don't care, or you don't see

And with you, mouse is never free.

Comets

It's a scary thing, to do.

A frightening thing, to act.

Sometimes it's hard to follow through,

And so you wait in bed, compact.

Beyond that door, there is a world of hurt

And the bed is safe and warm,

But on the chair is your coat and big-boy-shirt,

And you have to face the storm.

Sometimes, at night, you see the stars,

You feel the sky is raining fire

While the dull, electric rush of cars

Makes you wish you don't aspire

To freedom

And to love.  Be bold,

And seldom

Will you feel old.

Let the comets grace your skin.

Let the wind caress your hair

And follow down your spine and in

Your chest, and breathe away despair.

Face the lightning on the road

And the fury in the stars.

Leave the safety safe at home.

Give yourself some battle scars.

Slow Burn

There's a slow burn.

It starts off as an ember.

First it keeps you warm,

And it's a fond thing to remember.

But it grows.

The air heats and expands

Inside your chest,

And starts to ache, and shake your hands.

Then it slides into your gut,

The thing that slowly burns,

And it writhes around inside you.

Oh it churns.

And at times it jumps.

When you least expect, it shifts.

It slithers toward your throat

And it finds your jaw, and lifts.

There's a thing that burns, so long and slow,

And hides the world in smoke,

And if you wait too long, it starts to sting

And choke.

So at times, you keep it secret.

Oh you hide it, this you learn

With the fear that if you free it

It will twist, and break, and burn.

Wind

When the North Wind blows, it howls, it blows

To toss my ship in frigid cold.

The icy wet does chill my breast,

And hardens hearts, both young and old.

When the East Wind Blows, it laughs, it blows.

Its mischief sends my ship astray.

What fancy fun the East Wind hums,

But leaves my charts in disarray.

When the South Wind blows, it screams, it blows.

Such stormy shrieks do scrape the rails.

This wind, with rain, brings numbing pain.

Its screeching voice could tear my sails.

But when the West Wind blows, it sighs, it knows

Its whisper, soft, will gain my trust.

And on voyage long, it sings its song

And gives my ship a gentle gust.

When the West Wind blows, it knows, it knows.

Earth Song

Sun, take me.

Earth, let me rest

And seep into your soil,

Your healing breast.

Morning Song

Be as a sweet nocturne to my ear,
Beautiful in nostalgic melancholy,
Or as a thorny rose, for fear
Thou should be plucked from memory
For thy odor. Moved to tears
Would I be if sweet incense
Were inhaled cheaply, for here
Unworthy senses give no recompense

And no reminder of vision seen.
Lost by waking breath
Like ethereal steam.
Your vibrant imagery, to death.
Oh sweet nocturne, oh passed dream.

A Midnight Song

And the shadows of the heavens

Hide Diana's brilliant face.

Their ethereal steams and skyward fogs

Do cloud her midnight grace.

At half past one I hear the night song,

But the sky is shrouded in this place.

The air, so chill to freeze my blood

With fear, does fail at its post,

For safe I am inside my coat.

Through blindness, I will feel the ghosts.

So in the trees I hear the steps

Of something midnight strolling.

I hear its feet tread on the leaves.

It should be gone, come morning.

I hear a song in howls around

As something wanders near me.

The light of night cuts through the clouds

But for a moment.  Then I see.

It's on this bright december night

Should something come a shining.

If weren't it for the sky's dark fight,

The moon would not be hiding.

Sea and Sky

Sky:

If I should drape about my shoulders

The ancient, velvet shape of sky,

I'd show you all the shades of stars

And teach you constellations' cries.

Sea:

Reflect, I would, your shifting grace,

And hold you, whether black or blue,

And on your best and cloudless nights,

Respond with all your solemn hues.

Sky:

To dare to dance, to bet our lives

While we, the dark horizon host,

To mold that line, our one endeavor

And of our boldest virtues, boast.

Sea:

So smooth, our sinews intertwine,

Supporting, sifting, sliding back

At midnight hours, free of the sun,

And left to roll in supple black.

Daylight

To think I thought I loved the moon.

I've lost my lust for starry eyes.

I feel no fear of sunny skies.

I've fought my way through midnight lies.

To think, I thought I loved the moon.

The stars, outshone by golden fire,

Once made me drunk as cloudy night,

But now I see the brilliant light.

So now I quit, and will not fight

The stars, outshone by golden fire.

To think I thought I loved the moon.

In daylight now, I start to croon.

In warming rays, I start to swoon.

And to think,

I thought I loved the moon.