For Carry McGavock: Keeper of the Dead

(just so none of you will lock me up as crazy, the context is Franklin, Tennessee, Civil War era. If you don't know about Carry McGavock, you should look her up)

Alone I walk among the shades of grey;
I pass the time conversing with the dead
And relish in the beautiful decay.

No soul but mine could know the thoughts I weigh
Within my heart, or hear the whispers said
Among the halls where walk the shades of grey.

Through pain I kill to save and heal to slay,
But not a single guilty tear is shed
For aiding in the natural decay.

I shroud myself in pious black array
And softly traipse the place where men once bled
Before they walked among the shades of grey.

All others view my pastime with dismay
And think a woman feeble in the head
Who relishes consumption and decay.

Yet someday soon their names will find a way
Into my small, brown book that all men dread
To join the walk among the shades of grey,
Forever clothed in beautiful decay.

Apple Spice Cookies

We’re cutting apples,
the oven heated to 350°.
Let’s make cookies, I had said,
and you shrugged, watching me
as I began to measure and mix
until I looked at you
pointedly
and put you to work.
Now I’m helping, my modest knife
making smaller cuts while yours,
the “manly knife,” handles bigger wedges.
Neither of us talking, the kitchen silent
except for the clop, clop of the knives
against the board. Emphasized silence.

My face turns to the work, while inside
my mind is turning, turning,
unable to dismiss the words that slip,
unsaid,
though the charged air.
Several minutes tick away, rising
and falling with the beat of the knives.
I wait for the silence to break
like thunder announcing the storm.
But it doesn’t.
And so I speak. And you speak.
Our words fall in beat with our work,
soft, measured, cautious,
but true. Real.

Our knives still, the work done.
The apples fall into the batter,
disappearing beneath oats and nutmeg.
Our eyes meet across the counter,
mine ocean-grey, yours mountain-brown.
I look away first and begin dolloping
the would-be cookies onto wax paper,
trying hard to create uniformity
out of the uneven blobs.
You sidestep the counter,
removing the space between us,
and lean into the bend of my neck.
Again your words are few, whispered,
but they are enough.

The cookies are in the oven now—
I think they will be good.

Eventide

Shadows descend on the valley,
Hawks surrendering their skies to brother owl,
Effectively transitioning;
Like the changing of the guard, the night watchman takes his post.
Lingering light shudders, then plunges into dusky dreams;
Your eyes, heavy with sleep, quickly follow suit.

Sonnet 4

As time unfolds and shows itself anew,
Earth shifts its colors, shaking off the guise
Which through the years had veiled my callow eyes
And shown me only shades of what is true;
The depth of light far deeper than I knew
And truth of yore now seems today as lies
As foolish thoughts have given way to wise
My lucid mind bespeaks a sharper view.
Yet still the turning ages bring a change
To all things bound within the grasp of time.
Just as the tender shoot to tree shall grow,
So shall my pliant mind expand its range.
Although the past makes present seem as prime
A time yet waits when I shall fully know.

Sonnet 3

So often darkness swallows fading day,
And trembling I long for warmth and light
But plunge on through the unforgiving night
Too stubborn-willed to quit or change my way.
More oft than not I find myself astray
And bent beneath the weight of growing plight
Until I can no more suppress my fright
And losing heart succumb to grim dismay.
Yet even as my heart the night invades,
You then appear and cause the dread to cease.
Your voice like flowing water stills my strife.
My troubled mind your calming presence aides
And turns my warring darkness into peace;
I thank my God to have you in my life.

Sonnet 2

When life was free of care in times gone by,
The bliss of childhood bursting at the seams,
I took to drawing castles in the sky
And filling them with magic from my dreams.
In fairy worlds I walked among the trees,
Which came alive and whispered in my ears,
Then watched the dryads dancing with the breeze
As evening sang the music of the spheres.
I crowned myself the ruler of this land
And there with dragons soared in graceful flight.
With courage bared and faithful sword in hand
I vanquished foes as well as any knight.
Though years have left my childhood far behind
I ever seek those castles in my mind.

Oh hey....

So, this semester I took a great writing class and I actually have things to post now! Yay. For your pleasure, here is a lovely sonnet that I wrote as part of my final project.

At times I wonder where I got my name:
A random word by chance at birth assigned
Or fashioned forth by some parental mind
To honor friend or kin of great acclaim.
But oft I think it likely just the same
I entered life with name on lips enshrined
And spoke aloud to those who undersigned
The documents which legalized my claim.
Regardless how it came to be my own,
This name I bear is more than just a word.
It captures ev’ry facet of my heart;
Each wondrous flaw and virtue truly shown.
And someday when a new name I’ve incurred,
The next phase of my life and self shall start.

All's Fair...

You never made war upon this land,
Yet the battle was yours all the same.
You did not come to raid or plunder,
Yet still you took the spoils of war.
You laid waste to my armies without a single blow;
No shark-filled moat nor dragon nor walls could bar your way.
Without so much as a white horse, you over took me.
Without so much as a threat, you forced my surrender.
Now I, the prisoner of a war never fought,
Wonder at your inconcievable victory.
And wonder how I, the defeated, could have won
The greatest prize, not in war, but love.

Healing Song

I wrote this poem a few years back, but, like this blog, I recently dragged it out again and polished it up. I originally intended it as lyrics, though I never attempted to write any music for it. I haven't much of a gift for composing, but if any of you do, feel free to have at it!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It only took a misshapped word, a single careless phrase,
A spark that lit on withered grass so soon became a blaze.
In vain I ran for water but found my words were dry;
I only fanned a growing flame and unknowingly burned your pride.

The storm clouds hurled their deadly roar and blotted out my crys;
Their meaning lost on empty winds as onward raged the skys.
In dark I walked in sleepless dreams, seeking out your face,
And morning brought me only woes, the light drowned out by grey.

But then from darkness you immerged, your heart as torn as mine,
Burdened by the weight of loss and searching for a sign.
Through tears I begged forgiveness for all I was to blame,
Then love came forth like healing streams, absolving all the pain.

My poor, neglected blog

I know I have let this blog go by the wayside--in fact, until now, I had just let it go, period--but after recieving encouragement from my loyal followers (mostly just Justin), my fellow bloggers, and a certain assignment for my Technical Writing class, I am once again motivated to dust this thing off and give it another go (or at least attempt to). You may have noticed that I revamped the background and other settings. I rather like the change and I think it adds some needed flair. Now to add some needed posts....

Leave of Absence

I appologize that I have been unable to post the last few weeks. I have AP testing coming up starting Monday, so I haven't had time to post anything. The first instalment of my serial should be coming out sometime next week or the week after, once my testing is done and things slow down. I hope you all like my story-- I have the feeling that it will either go over really well or really bad. haha. We'll see.

Poll

It was suggested to me (and I think it is a marvelous idea) that I write a story and post it in serial. I have so far been unable to come up with an idea that I could really run with, so I would like to know, what kind of story would you guys be interested in reading? And please, if you have no opinion one way or another, please don't respond with "Anything is good for me," because while that is beautiful sharing, it's not very helpful in this particular case.


Throw anything out there: a genre or theme or setting, anything that might help to get my creative juices flowing.


However, don't feel bad if I don't go with your idea. You may find that some part of that idea appears later on down the line in my story.


Thank you everyone who is actually taking the time to follow this blog. I really appreciate having a loyal band of followers. :)

The official groundbreaking

I wrote this a few years back. It seemed appropriate as my first post. It has no title. If that bugs you, make one up.


a compulsive obsession
late at night
still i cannot stop
nor will i yet for a time

my world spins around me
yet i hold steadfast to pen and page
an anchor against reality
it holds and keeps me

keeps me coming back for more
until i am caught up
on a sea of words and feeling
i am carried by my passion

though it exists without reason or purpose
save in the world of my own making
it feeds my innermost being
as it flows from my soul to the page