into the woods
into the wild
my heart wants to run
my soul wants to hide
into the woods
into the wild
my mind wants to flee
my body respite
Tag: Poetry
Once
In time
Once Upon
We learn love
Ourselves
Unconditionally
Can you?
Can you tell me
Tell me about a time
About a time you were happy
Were happy being alive
Being alive in here and now?
And now can you tell me
Tell me of your love lost
Your love lost in this time since
Time since running through your fingers
Your fingers like water?
Like water you desperately tried drinking
Tried drinking that water of life
Water of life which is love
Is love or whisky
Whisky won?
Whisky won now your love is gone
Is gone like that time which passed
Which passed when you were happy
Were happy for ever
Forever
PS: the Gaelic term for whisky is uisge beatha, and means water of life
Blossoms
Spring buds
Foreshadowing colour explosions
Blooms
Smells
Colours
Soft
Gentle
Sweet
Happy
Pink
Purple
Red
Yellow
A living mantra
Hundreds of haikus
In one blossom
Silky
Velvet
White
Lilac
Opaque Venes
Transparent Pedals
Pure joy
So simple
A song
A poem
Each per blossom
Smooth satins
Dotted amongst
Rough bark
Pastels
Spread across
Browns and greys
The gentle happiness of inner peace
Winning over sharp edges of demons
Every spring anew
Light bursts into life
With so much joy
The Blackbird and the Hazel
The blackbird and the hazel
A love affair each spring
One morning you will wake me
Your mating song you sing
And I will open windows
And take in deep slow breaths
I will feel the earth awakening
While you will build your nest
And all this will be centred
Around my hazel tree
Underneath my bedroom window
Oh how much I miss thee
A poem a day
A poem a day
Makes the pain go away
A poem a day
And my mood will sway
A poem a day
Is my way to pray
A poem a day
A gentle form of play
A poem a day
Brightens the grey
A poem a day
Like a sunshine-ray
A poem a day
Words form like clay
A poem a day
Jump into a pile of hay
A poem a day
As I walk my way
A poem a day
Without paye
Dear Bum
Body Image Recovery
I wield a sizable bum,
As shapely and wide as they come.
With a wiggle of my hip,
I make the scales tip,
Bringing down, without a frown,
The most obnoxious clown.
Another of my woes,
My chubby Hobbit toes,
Adorning Hobbit-ish feet,
Which never miss a beat,
Stepping, tapping, moving to gigs,
Bringing along aforementioned hips.
If you care to look close,
There is my Romanesque nose.
Thanks to the brute,
I will never look cute,
But if I am ever out of a job,
I could work as drug-sniffing dog.
Now genetics are mostly to blame*
For cellulite and varicose veins
I got nothing here to address this matter
Though without my veins and skin I would certainly not be better
Therefore, I must conclude:
Dear hips, toes and brute,
You have served me well so far,
Despite not hitting the bar,
We dance, hike, smell, jump and run,
And have a heck lot of fun.
*Editing I realised that verse could be cut out. (2024)
Temptress Calling
The surge has increased her urgency
Evening wind moves the waves inland
The temptress is rising as the tide rolls in
Anemones stretch their tentacles in anticipation
The sea hollers her enchantment so loudly the bagpipe sounds like a lullaby Drowned out by spume
The gentle tug of the moon tips the water-bowl
Splashing icy spray over my naked feet
There is no mop big enough
Tomorrow morning I will be able to walk across the sandbank again
For tonight I watch the moon rising
Feet in freezing brine
An owl hoots
The Song of Trees
The wyrd ways
The ancient paths
Knowledge of the olde
Trees are rest and peace
And gateways to the worlds
Trees are boats, and fire
Tools, and wood,
Are weapons, and lyre, stools and root
Come mother willow
Dance brother fir
Sing sister poplar
Speak father oak
Listen to the songs
Drum on the skins
Catch rain that falls
Dance with the wind
So mote it be
In wind we sway
Future develops
For change we stay
As we sing, and hum, and swish
Grow child, dance, do as you wish
But once you rest do come back home
Lay your head on bark and bone
Dream life into being
Guide the dead away
Heal our sick ones
Hand over who’s to pay.
Yellow Brick Road 01
Nothing
All I see is a brick wall
Insurmountable
No hidden door
The wall is you
Not talking
Not sharing
But I see your love for me
I know not where the path goes
Yellow bricks would be brighter
The tin man’s heart is huge
Or was it the lion?
Straw sticks out my ears,
As I stare at the wall.
There isn’t even somewhere to turn to.
And I won’t go back.
So.
So, I stare at the wall, growing roots.
While home is within me.
When I look up my roots have wrought branches, thorns, and leaves.
A shower of rose pedals covers me.
Does this mean I have to wait another hundred years?
The red bricks shimmer through the greenery.
I move my feet, I have strong roots.
I have old roots. Very old.
How long have I been standing here?
I move my feet.
And everything comes tumbling down.
Eventually,
The dust settles
Yellow bricks are so much brighter.
Sun shines on the road.
You hold my hand.
Poetry by Nathalie 