~The Dragon Flies' Lair~Poetry Thread XXIV~

January 2, 2006 | bentfeather/Poets of the Lair

[Soaring Feather]

My Dragon Fly and Me

If I could be a Dragon Fly
and wing my way through the sky
I would never be shy
just me and my Dragon Fly!

By moonlight we ride the wind
chase the comets tail for fun
by day we would hide from the sun
our fragile wings would come undone

On darkest nights we would use
fireflies as our guide
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and me...

And we would wing past our lovers
silent in the night...
to kiss their face in our flight
much to their surprise and delight
my Dragon Fly and me in sight...

Such a view do we share
away up here in the air
of breezes soft through our hair
my Dragon Fly and me a pair...

bentfeather©

[Soaring Feather]

Good night dear Hope.

Rest well, with rain tapping on the roof.

[ScubieNuc]

Thank you. It's a nice place to unwind and be creative.

[ScubieNuc]

I like your poem. It creates an image I can almost feel.

I remember to breath and the moment goes, a mental snapshot of time without strife.

Something about this line is like "such sweet sorrow." It touches deep.

[Soaring Feather]

Good Monday morning everyone.

[ScubieNuc]

Good morning, lovely!

[Soaring Feather]

Good morning! Oh, thank you. ;)

[Knitting A Conundrum]

A good morning to you!

[Knitting A Conundrum]

Something I wrote a couple of weeks ago:


Think, O Man, of that craving that has echoed down through the ages,
Like a bitter poison burning through so many lives.
It shimmers like a jewel to catch the eye, a brass ring just out of human reach,
But is instead a burning deceit that brings only grief in its wake.
Like a curse, this longing for control, for power, for might -
The dark desire to be our own god, and to deny the God who brought us to life.

Mother Eve, beguiled with a longing for more than she had been given
Contemplated the dark glowing light of that craving,
Power to know, power to do was the twisted promise in the Serpent’s lie,
“Be like God,” he said, and the whisper slithered into her mind,
There to be fanned by her own heart into a full blown lust,
Control promised in the form of a fruit stolen from the Owner.
And in reaching for what was not hers, what control she had
Wrapped in the delight of living in the friendship of God on an uncursed earth
Was wrenched out of her hand and the hands of her descendants
By the One who was far stronger than she.

O Man, how often you forget in your longing for that which is not yours,
That like your father Adam, you are naked in the eyes of your Creator,
For He sees the dark seed planted in your heart since the Fall
And how you turn away from His offer of healing as you chase after phantoms.
How the old Serpent smiles as the seed blooms anew,
As you burn hot for the trappings of mastery, forgetting your Maker.
But you will find that all the tools and trinkets meant to enhance your control
Cannot protect you from the pain of that separation,
Or from the reality of just who you are.

When life comes crashing down upon your head,
When the earth quakes and the mud slides and the waters rise,
You will realize, O Man, that you are frail, mortal, and not at all God.
Look! Your illusion of power is nothing more than a shadow,
A dark miasma, a fog that evaporates like smoke
If seen in the light of Him who has the true control.
In that bitter awakening will you admit
That the stories of human grandeur you have told yourself,
All those tales of your power, strength, and might are not enough
To calm the raging pain in your heart, your mind, your soul,
Or will you let your pride take you down all the way into the pit?

O Man, naked you came into this world, and naked you will leave,
and your works will eventually turn to dust, for you are not the Master.
And yet the God whom you challenge in your hubris and pride
Still holds out a hand in love for his creation.
Instead of that black darkness he offers you the light.
Choose before it is too late - He stands at the door and offers you his heart.

[Soaring Feather]

Good day to you.



Moving and powerful piece you have written Knitting.


Thank You.

[NicknamedBob]

I don't know whether you've seen this, but your work reminded me of it.



Here In God’s Garden

I’m here in God’s garden. I have my own place,
The good feelings it gives me, please! Never erase!
Not part of the flowers, nor am I a weed,
I’m less than a raindrop, but more than a seed.

I’m doing a job here, I know it is true,
I hold my position, as I’ve learned how to do.
I stand near to this wall, holding dirt at the base,
Prepared for the morning, and warmth that I face.

A rock in God’s garden, neither beauty nor waste,
But witness to miracles, I am blessed to be placed.
Over here near the wall, there’s a rise to the land,
I can see a good distance, and I like what He’s planned.

I’ve seen plantings and harvests, and beauty and tears,
I’d be happy to stay here for many more years,
But I go where I’m sent, and I do what I must,
I can skip over oceans, for in God do I trust.


NicknamedBob . . . . . September 27, 2005

[Soaring Feather]

Hello BOB, long time no see.

Thanks for the poem, very nice as usual.

[ScubieNuc]

Nicely done. It's so true.

"The dark desire to be our own god, and to deny the God who brought us to life."

You see it proclaimed everyday, whether it's that mountain movie, cartoon Jihadists, evolutionist, etc. I just had a little FReepmail discussion with someone about human origins. I know it's not a intellectual approach, but I mentioned that when I viewed the amazing miracle called birth, I knew that we didn't come from an chemical accident!

[NicknamedBob]

Hi 'feather!

Are you starving in the garret also, or has your book done better than you expected?

I think I need to start stuffing my pipeline, but that kinda reminds me of work.

[Soaring Feather]

Well now Bob, le book has slowed in sales, however, I hope for a sudden gush of orders soon. I have something in the pipelines. ;)


Starving in the garret is a good description! LOL Sure would be if I did not have other sources.

[NicknamedBob]

The same for me. Book sales wouldn't pay my postage.

But Ah the glory of having created something for posterity!
Hopefully, subsequent publications will awaken the interest of people who are currently missing the opportunity to uh... darn, I know there's something they're missing!

I'll probably put out a book of poetry or two. Stand by for the competition.

[Soaring Feather]

But Ah the glory of having created something for posterity!

Okay bring it on!

Oh so true. However, my work is published in many anthologies both Nationally and Internationally. But, Anthologies are one thing, one's own book is another.

[Soaring Feather]

I Can't Make You Love Me

I loved you with all my breath
with all my being.
It was not enough.
I can't make you love me
not today, not last week, not last year.

I gave all, left nothing for me to hold on
you took all there was, and wanted more.
Bankruptcy is not cheap, be it financial, or emotional.
No one is every happy in a one sided love.

The next time will be different, or so the thought goes.
The more things change the more they stay the same.
I won't fall as hard, I won't love as deeply
I won't gather stars and lay them at your feet
I won't walk the second mile for you, unless
you meet me three quarters of the way in.
Then I will love you with my every breath
with all my being, until forever, or which ever comes first.

I will love you until I die,
When there is no breath left in me.
I will wait for you to join me.
Together we will explore the wonders of the universe
walk on diamond paths, smile in sunlight
laugh like children in the grass
play in Aurora's color, and twinkle in the heavens at night.

I can't make you love me.

bentfeather (c) 02.13.06

[Soaring Feather]

Ping to 517 if you wish.

[fatima]

Thank you bentfeather.This would make a good song.There is an old rule-never give everything:)I like it but it seems like they will fall back into the same trap again,(((Hugs))),fatima

[Soaring Feather]

*HUGS* fatima.

Thanks, I never thought about song lyrics.