WAITING, SIMPLY WAITING (FOR YOU)

By Charles Robert Lindholm

A little forest cabin

Just off the beaten trail

It’s nothing grand or fancy

But it’s me in each detail

Sitting by the fire

Her Name Was December

Inspired by the name of a Matthew Mayfield song

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Her name was December

she blew in with the last autumn leaves

swirling red, yellow and orange

‘round her head

She could be warm

like golden lights in a window

The Eyes Series: The Storm of the Eye

There’s a storm
that resides in her eyes –
swirling, blowing –
destroying inwardly

The Storm

The Storm

by R. Saint Claire

Sheets of ocean pierced by Titans
Channeled on Leviathan’s back,
Swells and lolls, crests and heightens,
Mounting Sky’s sulphuric crack.

Haiku – 4

direful clouds roar in
storm rises – twisting swiftly
wind high and growling

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Rise and fall
Rhythmic sway
Side to side
Listening to the rain’s
Pitter and Pat
As the people
Stagger to and fro

The sea from safe distance

The mischievous sea
with the high winds last night
is tossing and turning
and a fabulous sight

I’d not want to be out there
in the chop and the churn
But I’ll stand on the shore
for some lessons to learn

The window and the rainbow

Saw a rainbow through the window
travelling on a train
Huge black clouds behind it
bringing lots of rain

Into the Storm

In the distance far behind me
A tree stands faintly showing
Wrapped within a cape of white
Amid the sharp winds blowing

Sussex shores and breath taken

 

Muddy brown midst churning waves
I hear the ocean sing
with yellow skies beneath the grey
and seagulls on the wing

Bathed in yellow ochre

 

Bathed in yellow ochre
as through the clouds the sunshine broke
the sea reflecting breaking skies
as the storm removed its cloak
And settling there for brief respite
although the waves still towered high
we marvelled at the setting sun
beneath a darkening sky

Lost, found and kept

 

Lost to shouting seas
Found with murmuring ones
Kept upon a whisper
When the silence comes

Snatched when anger’s present
Gathered when it’s calm
Shared upon a whisper
When words become my psalm

The last laugh

 

It’s raining leaves out there
they’re just pouring down
The wind’s blowing a ‘hoolie’
and the trees wear a frown
By the time the storm’s over
they’ll be naked and bare
and the winter will laugh
at their bashfulness there

Storm and shout

 

The excitement of a thunderstorm
always brings a thrill
A flash of light and then the count
the waiting then until
A roll or clap of thunder
like a party in the sky
The same for when it’s miles away
or really close nearby

Exciting

Mugginess building
Yellowing skies
reckon we’ll soon be
in for surprise

Distant rumbling
of the thunder
Overhead dark
clouds asunder

Lark Song

 

The air is magnetic
And enigmatic
Light pulses and throbs
Through the trembling sky
Black as night
Black as the black venom
Running through your veins

A Quiet Note

a flight from red fires to white ice
touches the story of two silences
one, pulverized in a volcanic storm
other, reclining on a pond of calm

The ocean of life

Out in the ocean of life
Tossed by the menacing seas
I struggled like a ship without radar
To find my way home

Through The Storm

I don’t know if this is the right way
I’m too busy walking in a straight line
I’m not sure if this is my way
I’m too dizzy living in another time

Twilight Embrace

Ever have a thought that started as one thing and seemed to have a mind of its own? Is it a story or a poem? I’m not sure, but it is all fiction…

She stood before me that cold dark night
Soaking wet, glistening eyes full of fright
I opened the door and asked her to come in
Not knowing the journey that would begin.

Torrents of rain had been blowing for an hour
Most people around under a blanket did cower
She had taken a wrong turn on roads unknown
And found the house where my light had shone.

Her eyes were trying to hold back the tears
I wondered how to comfort and allay her fears
I offered a blanket and a cup of hot cocoa
There was more going on as I would soon know.

So Far

Crowded, sullen grey clouds

Bear silent witness:

Vacant market stalls,

Double-wet cobbles

Giving less than nothing back

And a patient young woman,

In quiet violet coat, with

Once-black collars and

A battered cello case

Close My Eyes

Tonight I’ll find a wishing well
Tomorrow’s a new day
Tonight I’ll find a wishing well
Before it’s too late

I need someone to show me the way
Why do my dreams keep slipping away?
Spent a whole lifetime running away

Friend revealed

Raindrops came down

Like a shower of lead bullets

Mingled with the brine spill

From mine eyes and soaked into my soul

But dried up before they reached the roots

The thunder and bullets

persevered

*

Deep inside there is a drought

No rain nor tears could quench

You left me barren and hollow

Spoiled any chance of love and trust

I had to offer a body in this miserable world

Why did you go?

*

storms – haiku

After the storm, what then?

Fishermen’s Song

Gnarling fury,
Menacing wrath!

From Poseidon’s clutches
Deliver thy torn sail!

The Storm

the storm was one that didn’t compare

renewal of life , it  was everywhere

the flowers are standing so very tall

just like a play , a repeated  curtain call

the air being fresh , smelling so sweet

grass turning green , our eyes it does greet

everything washed , looking so new

an early spring morning , covered with dew

we walk hand in hand , listening to sounds

this love is renewed , we also have found