elysabeth faslund Poems

'The Best Poems Are Penned At Night'


After the world has bottomed you up
...

The Veil is translucent. Owls eye complacently.
Do not fly. Not this day, night.
They blink gold discs. Ruffle feathers.
Talon branches tight, anchoring legends.
...

Was never a Morning as silent,
Sheathing birds' songs for later.
Perhaps.
...

One Idea Poem, With Rime...Meter...


Can of soup on the shelf,
...

Sunday silence, gold-summoned
Onto morning shelves.
We choose the book, open, read.
Archaic pages, dust deified,
...

Morning creeps.
Windy water waves
Duning shadowy Sun
Hollows...
...

Crystaline laughter, greetings, and snowflakes.
Tinselled trees draped with ribbons, laces, and
Bows. Tiny, sparkling glasses of sherry.
Ladies in delicate chiffon. Red berry
...

We linger a time on iced edges of life, gazing over the precipices
into preferences of immortality.
Cold winds scream gods' names into the night.
Arjuna walks with Krishna, questioning,
...

And the beasts, cast down from levels of heaven,
held conclave in stitched fog,
sewn by careless witches
dealing in yarn, with no regard for pattern
...

Should I come for you when night has fallen...
Shall I call your name when twilight descends...
Will temple bells hold you as dusk deepens...
Will the Royal Priestesses be with you when I come...
...