I need your light
These lantern rooms,
their clamshell lenses
beacons burning through
Years of whitewalled
standingtall under cloud-brushed
skies, a safe space, a shelter,
suffering storms, tides& anger
My daymarked times are over,
time spent in silence& night,
searching for remnants of resilience
I need your light
For the solstice, a poem by Anja Meyer – capturing the craving for light.
Sunlight broke the clouds at the last
and we saw, and we rushed out to catch
the last daylight
We walked up the lane, where the trees
reach up to the sky. Stayed too long – suddenly
it was twilight
We walked back as the night pulled our coats
and the house was a black paper boat
in the moonlight
We made warmth – we pushed out the cold
with hot soup and red wine, and the gold
of the firelight
And the room that we slept in that night
was a palace of silver delight, so bright
was the starlight.
This is a compound word poem, for a prompt by Grace at dVerse. You can find the rules on her prompt post. This is a new form for me, and I always find it takes a while for me to get my head round new forms! So this is quite simple, I think.
Light’s spilling from the window,
warm as gingerbread,
sticky as love.
Light’s spilling from the window
and I pause here for a moment,
between the dark blue night and
the light spilling from the window,
warm as gingerbread.
In December, we triolet. Another triolet, unrhymed, unrhythmed, stretched and bent, but still recognisable.
The River at Evening
This river changes every time I pass
The surface of the river takes the light,
The moon dictates its rising and its fall.
A cloud of birds rise up before they fall
I stand here on the bridge to watch them pass
A single form that’s caught against the light.
Hurrying homewards in the failing light,
They coil and curve, they turn and twist and fall –
Beneath them, all the people move and pass.
And in the fall of light, I pass the river.
This is a very formal structure, and I really struggled with it. I find the subject prompts much easier to work with. Anyhow, I’ve scratched this out somehow, and even though I’m not entirely happy with it I’m going to press “publish” just so I can stop worrying away at it.