The Dragonflies' Lair~Thread XXXXI

Poets of the Dragonflies' Lair | August 9, 2007 | Soaring Feather

[Soaring Feather]

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 (c) 2002

[Soaring Feather]

Rains

There are rains that come to
heal the earth
and rains that come to heal
a soul
these rains today will do both
a dried cracked earth will drink
her fill
while a parched soul will fill
an inner well
it all comes from the sky
my permission is not asked, nor
needed these gifts which come
uninvited.

Soaring Feather 09.09.07

[Soaring Feather]

LOL, get the heck up off the floor!!

[Soaring Feather]

Meg,

These otters are utterly delightful
their little paws express so much
no words needed to show affection
just two otters in the rough.

[Lady Jag]

                          For My Hawk And Playmate - To My True Kindred Spirit

 

Come dance with me in the wind and the weather holding fast we tumble through heather purple, gold, opal, white, new discovered by dawn's fresh light. Come laugh with me til breath is scant our cheeks blood red with merriment. Eyes aglow, mischief bright the other's joy brings each delight. Answer to Lenchen by Hawk: To my true kindred spirit: I will dance with you in the wind and the weather, holding you tight as we tumble through heather. May the dance last forever, and may time be abolished could I say something clever so all doubts be demolished? I will laugh without rest 'til my lungs are screaming will consider it best to be trusting and dreaming. Eyes aglow with a shimmer, like the children we are, as we dance in the glimmer of the morning - not far. As I hold your sweet hand and look into your eyes, as we dance through the land, as we watch the sun rise. Now I know what I've missed 'cause it did not ring true: As children we've kissed and this child loves you. And wherever you go when your heart wants to smile, I will never say 'NO' to the very last mile. Herbert Nehrlich

 

 

 

 

[MEG33]

;)

They hold hands so they won’t drift apart and get lost from each other in rough seas

...Holding on to your hand.

[NY Attitude]

Snuffle, Snuffle, Deep Sob. Okay if you say so. For some reason the sun started shining after a dark and dismal morning.

[MEG33]

Do I need to find a place for Sunday Dinner?

[NY Attitude]

Yes. Does Surf and Turf sound okay?

[Lady Jag]

Love, Love, Love, Love, Love Without A Doubt

How do you write a poem about Love? It cannot be caught and is beyond words’ power of depiction. It has no place to be, all places are filled with Love. Without Love would anything have any savour? Love is what joins Love is what flows Love is what counts Love is what grows Love is what’s known. Love is all around Love is all about Love is all we ask Love is all we give Love is all I have. Love wants nothing Love needs nothing Love misses nothing Love excludes nothing Love is what this is all about. Joining, flowing, counting, growing, knowing around, about asking, giving, having All is Love, of that I have no doubt. David Taylor

[Soaring Feather]

...Holding on to your hand...so we don't drift apart...

[Soaring Feather]

Well, I am very glad someone has sunshine, we are in the midst of a deluge, rain -started last night and has let up for only a few hours.

Last night when my daughter brought me home after 8pm, it started to rain as we left her driveway, it came down in torrents, so hard and fast it was hard for her to see the road. I was worried for her, as she does not drive at night much anymore. The break came as we entered the city limits and held up for her to drive home without incident. It rained through most of the night, I heard it! Now today it's goes on the same way.

[MEG33]

Because You Like Them( and so do I)

[NY Attitude]

The inference was that the sun was shining in the Lair after a somewhat gloomy start of the day.

[Soaring Feather]

Awww, yer too, kind. I appreciate it. ;0)

[MEG33]

Surf and Turf sounds great..Can’t find a proper place yet..BBL.

[Soaring Feather]

I fancy meself as a Romantic, Impressionist, Poet at best,
lest I sound haughty and a braggart in rags
at times the gloom works it’s way through
the mist to show the face of a wag
a teaser of jest with the attitude of an imp
whilst to write of love is my quest
even in a mire of hurt and heartache
but not untuned to the waves to love
enveloping round me from like minded souls.

The catchers of the waves are richer by far
than lonely travelers on the road of life.

‘Tis, the business of the catchers to hold
the wave, and spread it from corner to corner
into the wind, to let it ride the star beams
to heaven again, from whence they came.

Thanks for the lovely, uplifting poetry.

[Soaring Feather]

Gorgeous.

Years ago I wrote a sweet piece about pansies, can’t find that poem any place. Lost to the ravages of time I guess.

[Lady Jag]

Poetry

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle. Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers in it after all, a place for the genuine. Hands that can grasp, eyes that can dilate, hair that can rise if it must, these things are important not because a high-sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because they are useful. When they become so derivative as to become unintelligible, the same thing may be said for all of us, that we do not admire what we cannot understand: the bat holding on upside down or in quest of something to eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll, a tireless wolf under a tree, the immovable critic twitching his skin like a horse that feels a flea, the base- ball fan, the statistician-- nor is it valid to discriminate against 'business documents and school-books'; all these phenomena are important. One must make a distinction however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry, nor till the poets among us can be 'literalists of the imagination'--above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, 'imaginary gardens with real toads in them', shall we have it. In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand, the raw material of poetry in all its rawness and that which is on the other hand genuine, you are interested in poetry. Marianne Moore

[Soaring Feather]

WOW, that is a beautiful poem, the truth Marianne Moore speaks!!

Anyone can write of eyes
but can they give them life
can they find the words to make
them move, or glitter, or tear filled,
or happy or sad.
What I am saying are there, in their repertoire enough adjectives, to expand and detail their writing.

Sheesh, I never read that anyplace. ;0)

[MEG33]

~Reserved a table for us!~