IN THE NIGHT

northern lights

  IN THE NIGHT

Love illuminates
The fretful darkness.
Gives words of hope
That fill themselves
With meaning.
Lights the stony path
To understanding,
Fills in the empty spaces
As we cross the bridge
To acceptance.

                    ©2020 Gwen Grant

 TANTALIZING POSSIBILITIES

roulette-tricks

                TANTALIZING POSSIBILITIES

We fall in love on the roll of a dice,
A chance meeting.  Chancing everything on a meeting.
As we plain and seductive creatures
Remain wilfully unaware of the power of our own deep seduction.
For it is we who snap the bolt shut on death and boredom.

So we are always ready to catch some lovely confection
In some other plain beauty.  Some sweetness that draws us in
Until we are in so deep, all that is left is for us to declare
That this is the love which will last for ever,
Outliving any grain of sand or petal of a fading flower.

This love cuts out temptation.  Ends the pull of new desire,
Deletes that relentless ache for someone new.

We make promises quiet as silk slipping over moonlight.
We will love to the end of time, or, at the very least,
We hastily prevaricate, until the end of its own time.

We offer promises aloud, tying them up with a gold ring
Or two.  Often, two. Or with the ringpull of a thin tin can.
But gold or tin, nothing can lock up temptation.
Nothing stop that sudden surge of desire
For a tantalizing possibility inevitably leading to a sorry ending,
Or to a new and bitter beginning.

Nothing, that is, but love, which, as we fully understand,
Happens on the throw of a dice.

                                                        ©2020 Gwen Grant

STORM AT SEA

mermaid 2


STORM AT SEA

This is burning life,
This sea.
This blowing wind that whites the world
With foam and icy breath,
Tumbling the sea into a rumpled bed
Upon which ships of myth and legend sail.
Sail or sink
Beneath the green covers,
Lulling themselves to sleep
With the sound of mermaids singing.

                           ©2020 Gwen Grant

DANGEROUS HARBOUR

harbour

  DANGEROUS HARBOUR

As we stand here,
On the edge of the world,
The wet streets peeling away
From the tiny harbour,
The sea, in a fit of spite,
Swirls and tumbles
Onto the stony shingle,
Rattling the shells
From one bony ridge to another,
Hissing its peevish laughter
At the moonbeams dancing uneasily
Down this stretch of wild water.

Until, in a fury of authority,
The moon calls all to order.
Combing the white frilled water
Into its thin silver fingers,
Braiding light into the aching darkness,
Its own face darkening as it considers
The water’s bold and fierce behaviour.

Now look what’s happened!
The moon has turned her back
On the tiny, frozen harbour,
Battered by the shell hung water,
Smashing foam flowers
Onto the old stone causeway,
Onto our icy, hasty shoulders,
As we run helter-skelter for safety
To a deep and far away doorway.

Now the sly and sliding waters
Try to tumble us off our frozen feet,
Try and pull us into the rolling sea
To be another bony shell in the making.

                                   © 2018 Gwen Grant

THE SCENT OF FLOWERS 

daisy-on-railroad-track.jpg.480x0_q71_crop-scale

   THE SCENT OF FLOWERS 

In the dark landscape of regret,
There is, somewhere,
A flower growing in a corner. 

Love touches us
In the scent of flowers. 

Turning the world a different colour. 

                          © 2020 Gwen Grant

SAIL AWAY TO NOWHERE

sailboat

I love the sea, so I have always been very fond of this Norse myth
of red monkeys under the ocean feeding iron bars to the serpent.  They
did this because when the world was made it was too heavy, so the serpent
was given the task of coiling around it to keep it together.  However, the
serpent would get hungry so the red monkeys were given the chore of
feeding it iron bars to stop it uncoiling in search of food, as that would
have been disastrous!

 SAIL AWAY TO NOWHERE

Little boat
On the horizon
Sailing away to nowhere

Rough winds
Send you skirling
Across impatient waters

Fiery suns
Smash colour rainbows
Into the roaring silence

Darkening skies
Threaten spiteful rain
To savage and to sink you

Under the ocean
Red monkeys feed iron bars
To the world’s serpent

Respect the serpent
Whose coils save the world
From abrupt and violent ending

Little boat, come home
Steer quietly into safe harbour
Where I am always waiting

To sail away to nowhere.

                          © 2018 Gwen Grant