rhymetimebluezpoetryblog: 2012

Saturday, 9 June 2012

Conjured Words

I cannot write of simple things
Like mountains, forest trails or springs
When, in the distance, shadows form
And life fills with a coming storm.

I know not when the rain will hit
But I'll go on in spite of it.
I'll fight the fear that closes in
Though battles might be hard to win.

As pain awakes I will endure
Though, shaking, I may not be sure
I'm strong enough to be its match.
Determined I will fight and scratch

I'll knock upon Life's final door
Determined feet flat on the floor
And thank God for each moment I
Could conjure words that let me fly.

© 2012 Pam H. Mu

With The Years

The years had passed and there they were.
She gave her coffee one last stir
While he just smiled into her eyes
Remembering so many sighs

Of resignation at his pride.

He’d had so many things to hide
While she’d been such an open book.
He took so long to let her look

At all the secrets of his soul,

To give her knowledge and control.
But he found out along the way
That love sees through the shades of grey.

Laughter, anger, love and lust

Became a pool of selfless trust.
Time mellowed it like priceless wine
Whose grapes grew on a sacred vine.

Then as the sun began to fall

And cast its shadows on the wall
She sang a song from Mexico
That she’d sung to him long ago.

Life's Promises (about alzheimers)

Familiar pathes lay gilded by the moon
And from the distance a forgotten tune
Wavered in the trees where shadows grew
Around the memories I shared with you.

Your voice still echoed innocence of youth

Although the years had carried off the truth
And left an empty shell where life had been
With vacant eyes now blind to what you’ve seen.

My tired spirit fills with empty rage

Against a fate that didn’t let you age
With dignity, love and memories
But cast you out on unfamiliar seas.

I gaze into your eyes at emptiness

And wonder if you share the same distress
And know Life’s promises could not be kept.
Your spirit seemed to flee as we both slept.

Her Kingdom

She wrote by the light of a single lamp

ll night at the desk in her attic room.
From her pen came the worlds and characters
Who traded their light for her world of gloom.

Each night the chapters became so real

That she felt each planet beneath her feet
And moved from the cold of an icy plain
Into the mystery of desert heat.

They greeted her nightly by pale moonlight

Or covered by storms yet she always saw
Courage and strength in their weakest hour
Beauty and love in every flaw.

I found her kingdom long ago

After she’d faded beyond this life
And thrilled to the dream worlds she had carved
With only her mind for a carving knife.

(Note: Inspired by Emily Dickenson and Charlotte Bronte, both of whom I've loved since childhood)

Those Brave Men And Women

When I think of the soldiers in faraway places
And wonder at shadows I see in their faces
Wondering, too, if they’ll make it back home
I find too much sadness for fine crafted poem.

As I think of the family left waiting behind

Facing each night full of fear, feeling blind
I can’t help but pray for the end of all war
And feel that such promise is worth hoping for.

I pray for the end of all dark degradation

That causes the fighting nation to nation
And sorrow and suffering of innocent dreams
Nightmares that end in insufferable screams.

Above all the prayers are the thanks I express

For those who will sacrifice life. I confess
They have the courage that I most admire;
Those brave men and women who stand under fire.

Reverberating Life

Soft waves glowing in the sun
Shimmering in light and shadow
Movement barely catches eyes
Blinded by the early morning glow.

Reverberating life along a hidden trail

Barely caught as distance intervenes
Manes and reins that cannot be pulled in
Hoofbeats add their magic to the scene.

Free Wheeling

The edges curl up on the edges of time.
I feel my existence and reach for a rhyme
To show of emotions that swirl overhead.
I look the heavens and see earth instead.

Life has turned over and hidden from view

Is a sense of completeness, a way to renew
Until I just sit and let Spring settle in.
Now I am freewheeling. Come on for a spin.

Pledge to my Saviour

Just when I forget to believe
You send a friend to my side
Reminding me I am loved,
Opening my eyes so wide

That Your Light can’t help shining through

And my heart fills up with Your will
As all of the sorrows recede.
I give You my heart to fill.

You are my Saviour, my Lord

And I pledge myself to You
Asking that I be a channel.
Do with me what You wish to.

© 2011 Pam H. Murray

An Old Friend's Passing

I felt her right behind me
With arms raised to the sky
And knew the Earth embraced her
As the wind let out a cry.

I jumped to feel her shudder.

With an angry crash she fell
And the world held still around me
With a grief it couldn't quell.

I heard old voices whisper

In a softly chanted hymn
To mourn an old friend’s passing
As death reclaimed each limb

Where an old rope swing lay tangled

In an unfamiliar knot.
There a trace of memories
And a young girl’s dreams were caught.

Another Death

A rush of fetid wind rushed by last night
As denizens of darkness stilled their flight
And tremours shook the earth as shadows fell
Then day returned to cover it in light.

I listened to a child cry in the street,

Then silence as my heart refused to beat.
Tears washed my face for what I couldn’t touch,
A soulless city wrapped in summer heat.

Somewhere a mother holds a broken toy

And cries because she’s lost her only boy,
A victim of a sad humanity
That has no dreams and took a mother’s joy.

The Silent Hours

As night accepts the stormy sky
And cooler winds begin to sigh
I wrap myself in velvet black.
I feel its strength as it pulls back

The curtains to let in my dreams.

At last the tattered daylight seems
To fade into the quietness;
No boundaries, no need to impress.

There’s simply me and solitude.

My heartbeats fill this interlude
And thoughts are free to dance at will
Or simply lie until they fill

The silent hours drifting past.

I’ve come to see myself at last
As one content to be alone,
To taste the years my life has sown.

Do Angels Laugh Out Loud

She lay in her hospital bed one night.
Hallways were still with minimum light.
Machines all around her still hummed quietly
As she woke from dreaming of being set free.

“Do Angels laugh,” she asked to herself,
“Or have I mistaken the mirth of the elf?”
If I go to heaven, I don’t want to cry
Nor simply stand silent as angels pass by.

I want to tell jokes as I once did in school
And have people love how I can play the fool.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt funny at all.
If they laughed in the bible, I just can’t recall.

As she lay there she heard a mysterious sound
Of clapping and laughter floating around
And a beautiful face looked at her from above
Full of God’s peace and His infinite love.

She said, “I’m your angel and watched you for years.
You have made me laugh madly, til laughter brought tears
And as my assignment, you’ve made me feel proud
As you made all the angels keep laughing out loud.

As a thank you from us I can tell you tonight
That your pain will be lessened, you spirit take flight
And you’ll soon be back home. You’ll be happy and well.
We’ll be laughing out loud at the jokes you’ll still tell.

© 2012 Pam H. Murray

Note: Another poet and I decided to write poems on this subject and do a comparison. His was quite a bit different from this.

Storm (Written Jan 27, 2010)

As fog curls into evergreens
And seawind touches shore
I listen to its angry chant
And hear the trees implore

Its mercy with their creaking boughs.
Its answer is a crack
Of severed limb on rocks below
As a great fir breaks its back

And tiny creatures scurrying
To find a better place.
The storm grows bold as night arrives
To hide its angry face.

A thousand years of Nature’s work
Are gone when morning comes.
At last the peace beyond the storm
Has silenced last night’s drums.

© 2010 Pam H. Murray

(Note: This is about the hurricane that hit Stanley Park in Vancouver British Columbia)

Bitterness (Written Dec. 27, 2009)

The echoes have awakened
Whispered words to wound the soul.
Weary feet outrun them
As I fight off their control.

Again sleep is illusive
As I stare into the dark.
I’m searching for the home fires,
But my world has lost its spark.

Flashbacks almost flicker
In the corner of my eye
Then fade into the dimness
Of a frozen winter sky.

I call but there’s no answer
And it’s really been too long
To reincarnate what I’ve lost
Bitterness has grown too strong.

© 2009 Pam H. Murray

Going Home

Weary to the bone I lie; Beyond the window waits the sky Until I exit with aplomb. My life is done. I’m going home.

In peace I’ll let my spirit be A part of every living tree, The moisture in surrounding land, The whispered dreams held in my hand.

Upon the sunlight I will dance, For every hour of day enhance The wonder of the earth I’ve known, A part of every seed and stone.

I’ll hold the secrets of the bear And all God’s hunters everywhere. Through mountain waters I will flow Refreshing new life as I go.

I’ll have no weight to burden earth; No fear of shadows, no rebirth

One Smile

(I recently read a novel “The Book of Negros” and a picture of an elderly black woman dressed for church, complete with hat, reminded me of the heroin. She was just entering puberty when she was stolen from her village and brought to America as a slave. From her story I got this poem).

One Smile

Yes, she’s a lady, a visible queen
Living in poverty
Giving her life to those around her
Praying one day they’ll be free

Free of the hunger, free to be children
Free to be fathers too;
Fathers who can provide for the families
As fathers are meant to do.

She prays for the mothers along the road
Who carry the sick and poor
Out to the missions hoping for mercy
Knocking on door after door.

She dreams of the people so far away
Who call to people well fed.
Down in the town square she speaks to us all
Stating we could be there instead.

Please open your eyes to a world that is hurting
And children alone in the dark.
One simple thought builds a bridge with all others;
One smile could be the spark,.

© 2012 Pam H. Murray

Plea to the Dragon

Silver dragon I need to see your face
And feel your magic in this gloomy place
The wind is icy, rain has come and gone.
Winter is heavy in the rising dawn.

I need your power to pass through the day,
Your wings to lift me, carry me away.
Here, as the battle rages everywhere,
I search the heavens and pray I’ll find you there.

People still whisper after all these years
And words are arrows causing lonely tears.
I hope you’ll see me and you’ll take me in
And give me solace, sheltered deep within

Your shining armour. Give me back my smile.
It seems Life’s passage held me for a while
Then quickly faded leaving me behind.
Please, silver dragon, show me you are kind.

© 2012 Pam H. Murray

a winter haiku

winter's icy presence,
sad little princess
tears falling from bare branches

A Prayer

Thank You Lord

Dear Lord, You placed a soul on earth
And through Your love you gave Jenn worth
As she lay in her mother’s arms.
Your plan revealed the baby’s charms.

But as time passed a shadow fell.
Your special soul became unwell
And shadows formed along her way
Until each day seemed cold and grey.

She learned of fighting off the pain
And sometimes felt an endless strain
Yet, with Your strength she fought it all.
Then we joined her and sent our call

In prayer to ask You intervene
And send some peace onto the scene.
We prayed she’d find what faith can give
Rest through the night, the will to live.

For all this time she’s carried on
Though sometimes wondering if the dawn
Would ever see her whole and free
To breathe, no pain and peacefully

To have the chance to live once more
With hope for what life has in store.
We thank You Lord as You bestow
Her brand new lungs a chance to grow.

© 2012 Pam H. Murray

My Soul is There

They speak to me, the ocean and the moon,
In endless motion out beyond the dune.
I lie awake and ride their endless sound,
The thunder of the waves on solid ground.

My soul is there upon that restless sea.
I feel its chill and hear it sing to me,
The moon’s bright glow a path across its face.
I fight against it even as I race

Across the sand to find a hidden stone
That forms a resting place. I sit alone
Until the moon has crossed that endless sky,
Then drift to sleep within its lullaby.

© 2011 Pam H. Murray

September Storm

I feel the earth
Trembling
Against electricity
And watch it sip
The first rain
As thunder sings
Its Autumn march
Demanding summer
Move along.

© 2011 Pam H. Murray

Comment from PFT:

Hi Pam -

I was going to say I love "watch it sip the first rain," and I do. I reread a few times and it is really the entire poem that is remarkable, wrapped up in Pam Murray's inimitable style. It seems so simple, the way poetry should be, but it contains the thoughtful brush strokes of a fine painter.

love,

Kathy

A Valentine

Framed in sunset’s golden tones
Upon the sea in love’s embrace
He gazes deep into her eyes
And runs his hand across her face

Then murmurs of his oldest dream
Of love and home; two hearts as one.
She hears his love within his words
And feels the magic of the sun

That brought them to this place and time.
For them a new world has been found
And memory will hold this day
When they met on this sacred ground.

She never thought a valentine
Would hold her name and let her know
In this world someone just like this
Could cherish her and love her so.

© 2012 Pam H. Murray

Whales Passing

An echo of the ocean
Pulls me from my sleep,
An ancient conversation
Risen from the deep

Timeless consummation,
Giants filled with song
Magic of their rhythms
Carries me along.

I feel them pass with wonder,
Shadows in the sea,
Beyond imagination,
God’s treasured gift to me.

© 2011 Pam H. Murray