~The Dragon Flies Lair~

Poets | August 27, 2003 | bentfeather

[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 guides
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and I...

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©

[Victoria Delsoul]

You're very welcome.

[Soaring Feather]

For a little light hearted humor,
click the graphic for Riverdance

[SAMWolf]

LOL! Cute.

[Victoria Delsoul]

Thanks bentfeather! :-)

[Soaring Feather]

The Dragon Fly is magic.
Touch him for the goodnite song.
Sweet Dreams

[Soaring Feather]

Good Morning Sam.

[SAMWolf]

Good Morning Everybody.

You Know The Drill
Click the Pics

Coffee & Donuts

[SAMWolf]

Dragonflies At Dusk



Silenced whispers
of dragonflies
float above swamps
of fearful minds
with tired wind
and hollow moans
through deaf ears
and mundane drone,
the sinister buzz
of guttural thoughts
of a demented,
psychotic
cultural slut,
but fleeting dusk
can speak your soul,
with subtle delights
that poets own.

Who deciphers this message?

Quiescent crowds
with guarded lairs,
soft sensibilities
craving the fair,
clean the black mud
from their soiled shoes
removing the dust
from their limited views
erasing perversion of thought
from their site,
worshipping day
outlawing night.

Sunshine shows flowers
in colorful sparks,
in the night we see deeper,
all of space through the dark.

The slithering night,
respecting no rules,
slides through their dreams
over grumbles and drool,
licking their longings,
seducing their fright,
to a cerebral alcove
where it nestles in tight
and when the clouds form
and the sunlight fades
and the shadows show night
snuggled into that cave
and the soulful hum
of those dragonflies
expose deeper fears
they’ve been trying to hide,

will they understand what they are hearing?

What do they do
when blackness needs freed
to allow the light in
to comfort their dreams?
Is it freed with a pen
or freed with a knife;
freed into prose
or freed into life.

Do they see the difference?

There are dragonflies
around this swamp
whose only intention
is to hate and to haunt.

But words aren't the actions
of stories they recite,
a painting of dark
is not the true black of the night.
If we try to divide
hate from insight,

who will split that fuzzy dusk
between the daytime and the night?

Birchwood

[Soaring Feather]

Silent Icy White

Something silent and icy white
swirling featherlight
stares noiselessly
Her love in exile
Her hopes twisting sweet dreams...

bentfeather
a/k/a MLH
Copyright © 2003
All Rights Reserved

[My back yard]

Morning bentfeather! Lovely!

Did you see the pic of Broken Arrow posted in the Hobbit Hole last friday?

[Soaring Feather]

Dragonflies At Dusk

Sam, I don't know how you do it!!
This is an amazing poem and the graphic is fantastic.
Thank you so much for adding so much beauty to this page of poetry.

[Soaring Feather]

Hi and good morning MBY.

I did not see the pic of BA. :-(

[Soaring Feather]

I love everyone of the songs Sam.

Thank you so much for them.

Nate Cole has been a favorite of mine since I was a very young lady.

[SouthernHawk]

Another great poem! You are so talented.

I forgot to ask, what is the song behind the Dragon pic in #50?

[SAMWolf]

Hi My Back Yard.

Long time no see. You about wrapping up the season?

[Soaring Feather]

Thank you so much Hawk.

The song on post #50 is Phil Collins, "Hold On My Heart", isn't it beautiful?

[SAMWolf]

Sam, I don't know how you do it!!

I ever mention I was a scrounger?

[snippy_about_it]

I'd like to swing on a star! Good music this morning SAM.

[My back yard]

Yes, and hoping to not get wrapped upside the head at the end of it too, by that storm that is brewing. The Isabel one. She looks mighty nasty!

But, I'm ready for the football.

[Soaring Feather]

Once or twice, yes, I think so.

Aren't you the King of Scroungers?