Watching Clouds

Watching clouds as they go by

Spirits dancing in the sky

Painting patterns as they fly

Sylphs prancing way up high

 

Like candy floss and cotton balls

The fluffy white of a fresh snowfall

All shapes and sizes, big and small

Across the heavens they gently sprawl

 

I see the pictures that they make

Photo’s in my mind I take

All are real none are fake

Like a single snowflake

 

If you look closely you too can see

Their powdery white enormity

A ceiling of celestial beauty

Believe and let your mind go free

 

Copyright © JRFC June 2019

Image by tomwieden from Pixabay

Spirit of the Sea

I didn’t believe it at first

Was it the state of my mind?

A trick of the light

The miracle I needed

There it was… There she was

 

I sat on the shore line

Wrapped in my own melancholy

The blustery salty air

Filled my senses

While sea spray hid my tears

 

The cold tide lapped at my tired feet

As larger waves crashed on craggy outcrops

And there she was, just there

A white shadow on the edge of my periphery

A translucent rainbow balancing on the tide

 

Her beauty was beyond nature

Flowing silver hair that rippled like water in the breeze

Eyes of blue, sparkling like bright aquamarine

And her complexion; iridescent like milky opals

I was fixated, hypnotised, obsessed

 

And as I fell more and more under her spell

She called to me, ‘Come, come to me, do not fear’

Her lips didn’t utter a word but I could hear.

‘Come, let go of yourself and join me for a while’

‘But I will drown’ was my primitive verbal reply

 

‘Come, trust in me and all will be well’

 

Copyright © JRFC June 2019
Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

To New Beginnings

This is it, my first post of this, my second year of blogging, nay… Writing.

I must confess though that this was first blogged over on Free Verse Revolution. I’ve been lucky to have a great relationship with them and hope to continue in this New Year. Although I normally reblog from FVR on this one occasion I wanted to post this one as my first new poem.

So you lovely lovely people:

To New Beginnings

To new beginnings

Taking the first step and how

With spirits flying

Higher than the clouds dancing

Across periwinkle skies

 

To new beginnings

A fresh start for the poets

Heart to open the

Next chapter in his book of

Nightmares and dreamscapes for you

 

To new beginnings

With paper and pen I let

The magic happen

Words will appear and watch

How the story buds and grows

 

To new beginnings

A Poet’s soul energised

And I wander on

My merry way, step by step

With an open hand to shake

 

So new beginnings

I raise a glass and toast you

Toast your idea

To hope and prosperous change

A New Year, new beginnings

Copyright © JRFC January 2019
Image from Pixabay

My Special Guest tonight is…

Christina Rossetti and In the Bleak Mid Winter

So I love the song with the same title but it turns out that this poem, which I’ve actually tried to read with the tune but doesn’t quite work, was written long before the song. Huh who would have known.

Christina Georgina Rossetti born in England in 1830 wrote a variety or poems but was famous for the Goblin Market and Remember. She also wrote the words of two Christmas carols well known in the British Isles: This one, first published as ‘A Christmas Carol’ and Love Came Down at Christmas.

By the way, if you get a chance to read the Goblin Market; do it. I almost posted it for Halloween but it is a very long piece and I just didn’t think it suited at the time.

So, sit yourself in front of what ever heat source you have and enjoy.

In the Bleak Mid Winter

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

 

Image from Pixabay, modified by JRFC