I fly, I exist (draft)

I am here
Though you may not notice
Above the trees I soar
High within the clouds
Looking down upon the earth.
            And so I guard you.

The wind lifts my wings, I
Coast down, my eyes closing
As I sniff the warm Spring air.
Tilting my head, I come to land
My hooves clicking softly on the stone path.
            Though you can not see

This glad is my home
Far beyond the veil of knowing
Into a land where my like reside
Mystic in our presence
Forgotten with time
            And yet we wait

Folding my wings along my back
I walk along the steams edge.
My silken mane falls forward
As I bend to drink;
Crystalline liquid there to quench my thirst.
            And for a moment, I exist.


With a great bellow I toss my 
Head back and rear up.
Muscles stretch as I announce myself
To the world, knowing none could hear me
Yet wishing, just once, for some imagination.
            And then she was there.

A wee thing.
Golden hair falling to waist
Smiling as she look directly at me.
Seeing me.
And enjoying the majesty of it.
            A wee thing, smiling..

She clapped her hands for me.
Laughter floated toward me
Upon the breeze, spurning me forward
With great pride I raced on the wind
Wings spread as it lifted me up.
            I danced in the sky as she watched me fly
 
I am here
And so I guard you.
Though you can not see
And yet we wait
And for a moment, I exist.
And then she was there.
A wee thing, smiling..
            I danced in the sky as she watched me fly

Poem- Wish I Could Say (Draft, 2018)

I wish i could say
That it will all be okay,
And that the worry and fear
Won’t consume you.
So many years of the ups and downs;
Of trying to handle it all.
Just remember that this time
You are not alone
Oh my love, my heart and joy,
Would that I could
Wish all of these worries away,
And be a balm on your tired soul.
Instead just know, I am here, my love
And here I shall be
Whenever there is the need;
For oh how I love you so.
G. Skye, 2018 – Draft

Temptation's Dance

Temptation’s Dance
Pull me forth
Into Temptation’s dance.
Twirl me around and then
Hoist me up , dip me down;
Let me dream again.
Warm air rises,
Shivers trip across my skin.
The kiss of dancing dreams
Brings forth images
Of ancient things.
Hear my soul within this song.
Life is a rhythm,
Hear its beat.
Twirl me out and back again;
Feel the pulsing flash of heat.
Finally when resistance falls
And I feel your breath across my face,
Our steps falter, the music halts,
An inch away from a wiftful kiss,
And your sigh fades from my lips.
2005/2016

Whispers in Twilight (1998)

Whispers in the Twilight
The purple hues blur the world
As the sun sets in the west.
A lazy sense of finality settles
Like a mantle of time upon my shoulders.
Turning the corner visions assault me.
A bird chirps from a nearby tree.
I look around expecting you to be
Near enough– I could reach out and touch you if I tried.
Shaking ghosts from my mind I walk on down
The stairs to my comfortable home
Knowing I’ll be greeted by the wagging tail
Of my only child.
The comfort of having something there
Is never lost on me, though,
So I smile, pet the wriggling pup
Hang up my coat, and greet the cat.
I pause.
There you are again.
The comforting scent of familiarity
Wrapping me in the memories of
Love and friendship.
I must be loosing my mind.
Muttering to my pets, I drop my keys and open my
One piece of mail, only to toss it aside in disgust
Turning my back on the offending junk as it
Floats down onto the growing pile by the trashcan.
Unconsciously, I glide over to the stereo and soon
Music fills the room.
Looking down suddenly as yet another memory
Flashes though my mind and I chuckle at my find.
A bottle overturned— The pungent scent that had been
Taunting me since my return home–
Slowly dripping down the dark wood
And onto the carpet.
Avoiding the memories both
Joyful and poignant: the loss of you still fresh,
I quickly clean up the mess
And push aside the slight twinge of disappointment.
I knew you weren’t really here
And the ghosts were merely figments,
Yet, the possibility lifted
The stress and exhaustion for just a while.
Memories are a comfort.
And while I turn back and
Wander into my bedroom,
I failed to see a small
Gift left for me…
The white rose stands in the corner
Quiet and regal, wild in it’s mystery,
Bowed slightly in acknowledgment
That anything… can happen…

Scent is a funny thing… (2002)

Scent is a funny thing to me.
It rules my memories
With an iron fist of
Haunting recollections.
The incense burning on my alter
Comforts and protects,
Reminding me of days spent
In the shelter of friendship.
Ancient flavors and smells,
Their temptation soothes and
Wraps around me
Like arms around a well loved Child.
Hookah’s and twirling scarves
Delicate fabric falling from the hands of
Exotic dancers; imagery from a world
Extinct save for in our imaginations.
Scent is a funny thing to me…
It makes memories so much more
Potent and poignant with
The constant reminders.
Both past and present,
As they weave an intricate
Yet invisible blanket around me
Relax me and tuck me in.
GS 2002

Oh the Purple Hues of Sunset… – (2008)

Oh but the purple hues of sunset
Bleed tendrils into the midnight sky.
They urge us to dance beneath the stars
Spinning, twirling, just you and I.
Can you hear the drums?
Does the beat of wings
Keep time as your heart thrums…
And as we dance, to a tune of our own
The dust of twilight settles upon
Like glittering diamond, or crystalline snow
Upon a small, delicate frozen pond.
Listen to the sweet song
Of silence in these woods
In a place forgotten long…
Turn to me, and lay a kiss
Along my fevered brow.
Know how much of this I’ll miss
When dawn becomes the now.
Don’t cry as the birds rise
Beg not for more twilight time
For as you know every eve dies
To bring a us something new…
Winter, 2008

Poetry Flashback: This is my soul (2004)

The purple hues of twilight linger on the horizon,
Reflecting off the ocean of rippling glass.
I feel the energy of the magic moments between
Day
and
Dusk
Crackle gently along my skin.
This is the moment where I am the very essence of myself.
This is my soul.
Hues of colour, vibrant purples,
Regal and elegant gold meeting the
Mysterious shades of deep blue where
Apollo’s chariot dives beyond the earth.
I watch a heron glide across the water,
Decorating the horizon with a silhouette
So regal my throat tightens at the sight.
The suns last rays cast an amber glow to my eyes
Offering up to those who have the imagination to see
Past tricks of the light into what is real
What is me.
This is my soul.
2004