lays before these eyes and somehow
reluctantly I’m taken in surprise they seem so
elated like someone’s I never knew I always told
myself they’d miss me but wondered was it true
looking in pictured eyes that match my very
own in earnest dews the family there
couldn’t be at all my own it
didn’t sketch quite fair
you see yet these
photos few
are all
remains
to me some
family some heirs
but none for me who care.
sensations wielded within the
many tears inside as reins closed down
my eyes ever so tightly as if to shut their visage
out from present sight they reflect so many scenes
how through so many dreams I love them but they
built quintessence without sharing or telling and
now I’m just out an old brown image left on
fraying kodachrome a mom that’s laid
to rest a father believing he could
have saved her a sister who
holds disgust I stand
lone an invisible
ghost o’er my
mama’s grave
to whom I wasn’t even
guest yet find I unique appeasing
through all these tears just being
aware how mama blessed
me best.
* * *
Widdershins
Very
vivid and intriguing I loved the
opening line the ending hit rather close
to home which was unsettling yet a pleasant
sort of tear filled an eye and upon the very
first opening time I saw it I thought
a touching song but
then quickly
changed the
station like some
past love I had written
better kept than sent in
haste and probably
should’ve
lost.
* * *
Daze
The
lasting cruel daze a winter lingered
snowflakes melted silently as each day before
breaking daz made times to bicker while a glazed
fog rolled o’er a mooring dews swaddled in lines
of cradled chalices waiting floors sweeping
broom where were sighs frosted
crispy airs glass in such
brought nippy
spirits
down
to reel in
flare the nights
before earths mourning
while short greens of spring
poked heads through withered
fields’ icy sheen a yearning.
* * *
That’s My Love
Once upon a lifetime
goes you by secretly met the one who’s
made you feel your soul could fly their the one
who made you finally come alive the one who
touched you in exactly the right place
no one else could ever find
they move through
your spirit
filling
your
soul and
mate letting you see yourself
through different light showing you how
you are and become presenting the things you
can accomplish once of course through a lifetime
there’s just one love that will endure the quiz of
time it’s a love so strong it’s a love so true
it’s a love that through all hardships
will survive... it’s my love
for you.
* * *
Speak With
caution of the north wind it’s a lonely frozen
shoal where she’s been maybe not so silent yet dark
tactless ripples she grips in waves even tho wild tides
pour breaking on chilled ocean doors impetuously
through ferns leaving dales profoundly still in
twilight air so she stings yet further
like something apparently
felt or sensed but
having no
physical
reality her
apparition appears
only in the mind of northern
illusions appearing illusive along the
great divide bordering the Albertas where
she’s always talking of things definitely to be
dreaded characteristic of a fictitious phantom
gliding over silently near tenderly gazing
on her dearest nonexistent deceased
land scape where she’s left a
withered leafless branch
bending downward
to drink of yon
river but alas she’s
iced it’s waters all so far
beneath fantasy springs southern
airs are hidden in white washed wasted
lands of snow drifts lying endlessly round
as the stars of heaven to far though softly
pleasing yet lone they silently send
sharpened crystalline life to
seriously unclouded
whispering
skies.
* * *
Silently Seeking
in ‘ol pleasant cemetery
near a wire fence wildflowers strolled
through taught barb wires of winds o’er my
soirée eyes laconic with blindness where defense
frowns a malicious god I thought was a friend and
from my dark oily stained sins and broken faith
which had killed me within ever turning so
slowly to face mothers grave I never
heard or felt the northeasters
that night my mother’s
grave music cried
drowning out
the spirits
of rain
I
turned
silent seeking
shelter from
pain.
* * *
de 'ol knitted sweater
Adventures
just seemed much more friendly
when you took along your mommy that safely
sings good night sleep tight nestled inside a cozy
night knit and tucked right in a sweater mom so
cherished sent in case of weather there’s a
sweet scent of warming comfort
about it as she knew it
would provide in
unfamiliar settings
what nicer gift for mom’s
biggest fan than that old worn
knitted sweater the years have taken
away my sweater and without a mom
and few her letters only makes it feel
no better I must close now before
it rains and your card gets
any wetter.
[happy birthday mama]
* * *
Faery Magic
An endearing poet who
loved art visited a library museum
often started finding herself so enthralled by
what she sees and after all reads that she interacts
very personally with the paintings and the poetries
ever silent and always lone kneads words within
as candles shone though solo sat on dusty
shelves thought of her complete
and whole never sought
another’s torch
to hold
her
soul
lived a life of
ostracize in darkened
womb with little size yet
one dared to touch and
risked to shine light
of heart in to
mine.
* * *
Unfamiliar dawns
it’s not so hard to share
with you as it’s been in times before
looking into your sea bleu eyes when dying on
the floor holding back wombs empty pains searing
my insides out crying taking away my dreams of
what this life’s about your embodied baby
surely gripped my inner soul knew
you’d always love us you
ever told me so it’s
so hard to keep from
wandering through scenes of
yesteryear whom she may of been
are the deepest pains I’ll ever know
and then to hear it all from love ‘tis
so reckless to comprehend how
your feelings grown because
such pain is crucial
yet still you
try these days to
let me know you love
her and yet need me
still some how.
* * *
Lilting lore
Lilting lore and folksy love
songs carried old dear hearts along after golden
rings lost gleaming lusters turning brass and then to
stone and precious gifted looking glass lay broken
and sands again reborn then charming lovers
realized their still holding the
others hand they
walk the miles
of corridors stealing
kisses when they can lost
in God’s adventure as their souls
glide o’er the land it was a time for thoughts
in taking though many stolen some forsaken life
was shining though both now needed glasses not
as young and not as sprightly but glad that they
had come through times remembered flashes
doting through the spotted leaves came
sunny diamond spalshes forgotten
as are colds of autumn lost
too the winters
snow
spring is here
and I thank God
my Giver.
* * *
Laced lullabies
So the old familiar lullabies
have passed on “hush little rock-a-bye baby”
like so many others soft & engaging how life’s flown
in breathtaking songs cute vanished lines ever drifting on
working through rough poetic times my daughter intensely
anticipating from over my shoulder seems waiting with all
her charm I turn look deep into her eyes and sprightly
say “my such pretty eyes today” without a flinch
& still glued to the screen tells me without
glimmer of thinking “I was born
with them daddy" so I went
a fishing and asking
said “what do
you think
of these”
with not a
thought of dread
she looked curiously long
into my serious eyes with
innocent laced puzzled
lines then snickering
with grace she
colorfully
said
“Dirty glasses dad”
* * *
Please Don’t
pain breathes
controllably lying defenseless near
your arms you struggle kissing through the
glass away my every qualm yet where am I ever
safe from graves ungrateful arms death lives inside
me so much to your dismay I stare over deep green
seas into travailing eyes from this crib side where
I lay years in tears arena streaming down your
face stilling... consoling... such words of
grace you speak. “It’s okay baby,
I love you,”
Please don’t leave me
Please don’t
Please.
(C) 2000 Dale Wayne Van Sickle Gwaltney
* * *
By surprise
yonder towards the
vicious west lies the islands of the inland
strait through the fibers of my mind by surprise was
taken time through a sapphire sea came rushing clouds
at breaking speed while acid rain cut through my womb
snow flakes dropped solemn gloom I am the willows
smallest leaf winds blow her quickly through my
reach a heart’s living manuscript of all that
I have been of suffering and grief
walked beside the summits
of death saw buried
below snows
billowed
drifts
as
unborn
soul is seeking.
* * *
What I’d tell you
The love of my dreams had almost faded now and what
kind of love could’ve survived or made it anyhow there are the
ones of course God is created deep with in spirits of random sorts
with loves of determined hearts who’ve dreamt of it in the deepest
most secret regions of inner parts and souls I can almost
feel your love standing here before me quietly
what could I do what would I say if
truly you were here today
forgive me...
or
for I never meant...
You see
I’d never taken the time before
to known such emotions as these and more I
figured I’d lived so very long without any such and
buried my lyre heart in it isn’t any wonder then I failed
to recognize you you brought these precious things to
me for the very first time is there any way I can tell
you how much my life is changed any way at
tall to let you know what sweetness you
brang there’s so mush I would say
I cannot find sush times or
sush words except
for these
“I love you”
and that’s what I’ll tell you
as soon as you get
home.
(C) 2000 Dale Wayne Van Sickle Gwaltney
* * *
Lost In a Dream
you shower me every night with a
moving love all through out my dream
but every morning I wake to find your
always again missing you’ve taken
my dreams stolen my body and
tenderness too now I’m left
naked without even
you to hold and
wouldn't you
know there’s
no sign & too I
never know when
you’ll be back most
days I hate you for all the
times you’ve come in only to
leave in morning dews when again
my nights turn to day you ought to just
feel awful leaving me that way day after day
after day if only I could stop you from crawling
in on me and I look so shameful wrapping my
legs around you not even caring or asking
where you have been but it’s no use
I see I love you too much to set
me... or you free.
(C) 2000 Dale Wayne Van Sickle Gwaltney
* * *
The Brownie
A worn brown photo
prepared from the secretion of a
dark cuttlefish prompted thoughts of my
mother and that original “Brownie Camera”
they were given taken back near the turn of
my childhood and later covered the many
white and black days of time almost
surely forgotten playing life in
retrospect digging my
mom from the
grave tears
form
assaulting
corners of urgent
begging eyes.
