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Showing posts from February, 2013

There must be time for the Old Gods

There are times when life seems to be nothing but a mad, unconsidered rush to get ‘things’ done. This new poem is a reflection of a longing for stillness. It is a longing for the space and time to go deeply within the forests of soul and of nature, there to find the essence of self that I know has not been lost. Will you take a moment to sit quietly with me? If you are quiet Still, there must be time (and time) – For the Old Gods: Gnarled, gentle fingers Roots dipped in molten core – Wait – bluebalancing summer skies On a rainbow of green on green. If you are quiet, You may enter in beneath the boughs On moss slippered praying feet, There, They will meet with you, Barked-feathered-bright-eyed, Quivering with Life. If you are quiet, They will let you hear A wild of wind, Winding itself around the world, Whispering the stories of stories Of things you always knew. And if you dare, And if you will, You may find the old self,

Grand Passion

Grand Passion     I would like to be loved. I’m not asking for GRAND PASSION, Moonlit romance Or a knight in shining armour. I’d just like to hear Someone else Breathing In The Darkness                         Ruth Everson There’s nothing wrong with passion. When I ease into the wrinkled winter of my life I’ll remember the heat of a slow kiss. The smile on my face won’t be in anticipation of red jelly and custard after a supper of mince and mashed vegetables. It will be the memory of a hand trailing skin-sparks across my back. We all have a fundamental need to be loved, but passionate love seems to be transitory.   Psychologists claim that we stay in the passionate stage of love for a maximum of two years, after that reality kicks in. The radiance of new love blinds us to the things that The Beloved does that, in a lesser mortal, would drive us to distraction and muttered threats of violence. Most of us have been kicked in the hear