I guard your eyes at the dawning...
Veiling you from intrusion.
I guard your face in sleep.
I sing demons of dreams back
Into their Abysses.
I know your dreams long before
You.
If mine tarry...bring me a kitten.
Or baby owl I can name
Archimedes
As Merlin did...
A life-long confidant.
I bring air melodies, responding
Sighs from Eldritch Forests...
That receive no footsteps.
I whisper fire to life, fashion tea,
Gather olden sustenance.
One dawn, when sadness disappears
From your face...
When all is right in your morning...
When you laugh at the world again...
I will tell you my real name.
For now...
I am called Woman.
Only gods can create more
Than me.
if i was put in a boat and people marveled from the street id scream so they would whisper woman are as vast as empires that drip from leaf to leaf you might have a fan with half a smile and that is my fault.. thanks
If I wasn't happy and married...two words which confound me most of the time...I'd be over for a nightcap.
Your poem reminds the reader of a mystical time from long ago when the feminine spirit was all powerful, and all compassionate. A time before testosterone took control, and egos thrived and fought and died. Your poem sings like an ancient acapella and its message is one of wisdom and warmth. love it. Allie xxxxxxxxxxxx
'Only gods can create more Than me. ' - Aptly said Elysabeth; a nice poem.
If you are not a god, you must come close to being one. I like this part: 'I whisper fire to life, fashion tea, Gather olden sustenance.' Women can do so much. If the world would only let them.
The very first poem of yours that I've had the honour to peruse, and what a piece of virtu it is! An indicant of myriad forthcoming pleasurable reads, I truly hope. You are definitely talking my language with this superb offering, Elysabeth. Magical quilling, milady. Respectfully, Greg
A very beautiful piece. I love the namelessness of the source of sustenance. Susie xx.
A pleasure to read. It flows and gradually builds the suspense until that powerful and final statement. I believe that our salvation will only come through the power of the woman. What to do with man - so blind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful, excellent thought process in this poem....The last verse resonates loud and strong and clear...I AM WOMAN! , , , , , marci.xo