Sonnet for a Lullaby.....

And, so I turn from you, and so it seems,

You've held me tightly in your iron grasp,

Ripped from my sleep, the peaceful realm within,

The solace, sweet in solitude I ask:

What means your manner vicious, cold and brusque,

How can your words run honey, sweet and pure,

Though in your hands the words run course and rough,

And falsely fall where dreams had held them true.

Return me now to slumbers' peaceful realm,

Where held by Morpheus, soft the night's caress,

Will soothe the pains where waking days o'erwhelm,

There, finding in his arms, the hope of rest.

For waking little sheilds the heart from pain,

Though dreaming never finds the heart again.

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A-Z Reflections, year 4....

A-Z blogging challenge for 2014 has come and gone, seemingly without my realizing it. And, though I fell behind once or twice toward the end, I finished this year's challenge right on time. Really, I can't believe it's already over. I feel like I just finished my post for letter A... Year 4, for this blogger, was a far cry from the tortured state of despondency that was most of Year 3 -- I'll not mention the irony of this year's focus on death being easier to blog about than last year's foray into supernatural creatures, we'll leave that for my therapy sessions *ahem* As always, A-Z brought with it, not only 26 days of unbridled and far-reaching knowledge (disguised as entertaining and thought-provoking blog-posts), but a chance to connect with new faces while reconnecting with familiar faces--who had perhaps drifted away--from A-Z's past. I am always amazed by the ingenuity and inspiration that comes from lumping a couple thousand folk...

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

K is for Kelpie.....

Today's entry is dedicated to my wonderful social club pledge sister, who sent me off from our college sanctuary with a copy of "Scottish Folk and Fairy Tales", containing an inscription that the "magic and mischief of the Kelpie follow me".... She knew I had an affinity for water and for mischief...and for all-things Celtic--so the Kelpie seemed to suit---- though, I'm not quite as savage as many folktales paint Kelpies. Kelpies are Celtic water horses, believed to haunt the lochs and rivers of Scotland and Ireland. The Kelpie was known to appear as a "lost pony", though, its identity is given away by its constantly dripping mane. Most stories give the color of the Kelpie's coat as black, though there are a few that mention the color white. The texture of the Kelpie's skin is likened to the smoothness of a seal, but its temperature is "cold as death to the touch." Like many other tales of supernatural creatures, the Kelpie...

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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