Maggie Kelly

Stay Awhile

Grey swells adorn the horizon and sprinkle lightly upon the earth
The roar of thunder is heard in the distance whilst I seek the crash of light
Alas, only the roar is heard
Cool are the drops that I grasp
Escaping through tightly clenched fingers as gravity has its way
East, west, north, and south there is no sight of blue
Ah, but the green! The green is seen
Lush and glorious
Intoxicating the nostrils with every breath
Eyes closed dismiss the unnatural sounds making way to silence undisturbed
Journeys need not be made via transport of the usual kind
Nay! My mind takes me where I choose
Light the skies oh nature's form
The bolts of the gods fly mighty
The land and sea take fancy to the storm
As life twirls about in ecstasy
Driven sideways, air has its way with water

Weary traveler, take thy time with thy hostess
Let she sup with thee
Thy cup emptied shall be filled ten fold
And thy plate engorged
Tis mine the fancy to fulfill thee
Where dost thou roam on lonely roads
Whose only avenue is a new fork or cross
Where dost decision play in thy mind?
To what end is thy journey?
Stay awhile

My hand wands and waves the quarters assuring the share
Shall the traveler raise his thoughts to speech?
Or does the road call more loudly?
To this comes the silent answer
Tis known that thy head is used to the full of a feather bed
But the warmth of straw and hearth does bear merit
My stew is not as hearty as fine spiced meats
Nor is my plate gold
But tender is mine hand and adoring is my offer
The finery of fools besieges me not
Nor does the foul smell nor pallor faces of the dead
Graceful is my life dear traveler
Stay awhile

Tis naught of often thou hangs thy hat
The roaming of village to village
What finds thee? What dost thou seek?
How loud dost the wind call? How hard dost it push?
Dost thy heels bear wings?
Wilt thou ride Pegasus or attempt the acts of Icarus?
Let she sup with thee
Speak of thine own being
Let sound resonate in stories and create illusions drawn pretty with every stroke
That elaborates upon the wag of the tongue
Pray tell speak!
Pricked are my awaiting ears
O dearest traveler
Stay awhile

Poem Submitted: Thursday, February 23, 2012
Poem Edited: Thursday, February 23, 2012

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