Just for Tonight

(A Mayberrie “song” .  The tune for this is in my head, shifting key between major and minor. Wish I could record it.)

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Come sing me a song, beat hearty your drum,

m’lord, let me hear you deep in the night.

I feel your eyes

sweeping the skies

searching for peace in the waxing moonlight.

 .

Reach out to the stars,

play loudly your heart,

your song is my blessing,

may love ne’er part.

 .

Someday we’ll dance ’round the fire again -

m’lord, send me a signal that you’re all right.

I feel you out there -

do you know I still care?

Come sing me a song if just for tonight.

 .

Reach out to the stars,

play loudly your heart,

your song is my blessing,

may love ne’er part.

 .

© 2013  Betty Hayes Albright

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This song needs a guitar or mandolin (or lute?)

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For links to all the Mayberrie poems in this story, please click on the Mayberrie tab at the top of this blog.

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Stale Bread

Note: title was changed 11-4-12

(A Mayberrie poem. This one follows Time Again , and the end of the series is coming soon. Thank you to those who have stayed with it!)

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He found his wounded soldiers

resting in the dunes

as they ate stale bread

and drank their watery ale.

They were weary of the battle

and muttered dark

amongst themselves.

A flock of gulls

flapped overhead –

he wished that he

could fly with them

and leave this bitter war

to join at last

his secret bride,

to have her at his side.

She held him

in his dreams at night

or was this just a torment

of the gods?

He watched his bleeding men

and knew

what they must do:

fresh troops were on the way,

it was time –

they must return

to Mayberrie.

.

© 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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For links to all poems in this series,

please click on  Mayberrie .

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Time Again

(a Mayberrie poem)

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If she could count the trees and hills

that lay between them

would she reach infinity?

Even time seemed just a door

to let them pass

into another day, another life.

 .

The royal ring stayed hidden

on a ribbon near her heart.

The villagers still glanced askew.

They’d heard the rumors,

looked away aghast –

She’s just a servant girl!

But still they gave her

bread and cheese

and sometimes fish

in trade for woven scarves.

And here she shared

their anxious thoughts:

how long the strife,

how many battles

could the land endure?

She wondered if her king was safe

or had he met his doom?

.

The agony became too sharp,

and so she hurried down the path

leading to the sea

where once they took their evening stroll.

She longed to stroke his face again,

to feel his warmth, to fast embrace

but now she’d have to settle

for the seaweed sliding

through her toes,

the rocky sand, primordial surf,

and all so cold,

so very cold.

She pulled the ring

out from her breast

and slid it on her finger -

T’was time again,

she’d go to Mayberrie.

.

© 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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(For links to all poems in this series, please click here:  Mayberrie .)

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Fever

(a Mayberrie series poem. This one belongs after the poem “Rumbling” and before “By his Side”. Sorry, they don’t always come to me in order.)

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There was a pounding in her head,

a shiver in her bones

as she staggered from her garden

and folded to the ground.

In bed she woke,

Old Woman from the woods

holding a cup of bitters to her lips.

Drink!  she commanded.

Stars, moons and goblins

swirled around her head

as she tumbled up the mountain

and sank into the sea.

And then she felt him at her side,

his hands cupping her face.

She swam into deep water eyes,

held him closely to her heart

until there were no shackles

holding them apart.

.

When she woke

Old Woman sat nearby

and he was gone.

Where is he?  she whispered.

Old woman shook her head,

You must have dreamed, she said.

The kingdom is at war again.

He would never stay behind -

instead he leads his men.

Turning towards the wall she wept

and fell into a darkness

of nights taunting the days.

And then the fever broke.

.

She looked around her room and saw

fresh bread and butter on the shelf

and broth warming near the fire -

but she was alone.

On shaky legs

she stumbled to the door

and pushed it wide,

greeted by the morning sun,

the restless trees, a solemn crow -

and hoof prints of a war horse

that had halted on the path.

 .

© 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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For links to all poems in this series, please click on the Mayberrie tab at the top of this blog.

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Rumbling

(a Mayberrie poem – this one was begun weeks ago and belongs in the story before “By His Side”.)

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Not everything’s a sign,

‘tis true –

she knew this from experience.

But now the meadow

seemed to hold its breath

in strained uncertainty.

Birds stopped flirting through the trees,

there was no hum of bumblebees

rolling in the phlox.

She listened for the rustle

of a rabbit in the brush

but nothing moved

save for the cutting shades

of ravens on the path.

And then there came a rumbling

of thunder from the dunes.

An approaching storm –

or were those drums?

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© 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

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(For links to all poems in this series, please click on the Mayberrie tab at the top of this blog.)

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Haiku #10 – Little Birds

(Mayberrie poem – an addition to “By His Side”)

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Little Birds

.

From the south they came

little birds by the dozens

singing through her trees.

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(c) 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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(They came, the morning after posting “By His Side”: a large flock of unfamiliar tiny birds singing sweet songs in the trees – and then they were gone. Maybe just a coincidence, but… thank you.)

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By His Side

(a Mayberrie poem – still a little rough, but couldn’t rest until it was up.)

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Storm-ripped waves

tore between the rocks

with urgency.

She lifted up her hands

and implored the northward wind

to take her song to him

wherever he might be:

.

Oh love, I smile for you,

can you see me in your dreams?

Can you hear me call your name

as my eyes search for your face?

These arms stretch out to hold you

not at a distance,

but from it.

I am by your side

bringing cups of water

from the healing creek

(where once we drank each other full).

I’ve added just a bit of nectar

from the dandelion

in hopes that it will make you smile

and reach across the chasm

to play your song for me.

.

With a sigh

she sank into the dunes

and listened to the shifting surf

as the tide was turned.

And so the wind changed too

as it gathered up her song

and hastened south.

.

©  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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(For links to all poems in this series, please click on the Mayberrie tab at the top of this blog.)

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Stew

(a Mayberrie poem)

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Walking through her garden

she could smell the vegetables

and began to hunger

for some butter-dumpling stew.

It had been his favorite long ago. 

She sighed.

Row by row she harvested

sweet carrots and potatoes,

two turnips and an onion -

and over near the wildflowers

parsley and green beans.

All she needed now

was just a little thyme.

 .

Pacing in the courtyard

he caught his reflection

in the pond.

What was this king

who loved a servant girl -

his forbidden bride?

Alas, it must secret be

lest they have her head

for she was peasant born.

And now another battle loomed

far across the dunes.

He sighed. 

All he needed now

was just a little time.

.

© 2012 Betty Hayes Albright  7-23-2012

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(For links to all poems in this series, and an explanation, please click on the Mayberrie tab at the top of this blog.)

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Purple-Red

(a Mayberrie poem)

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She dusted off her wooden loom

and began to weave

a cloth of green and blue

and purple-red.

For days she barely ate or slept

but worked her fingers

till they bled

into the threads and yarns

that made the fabric whole.

 .

It would take all morning

to reach the castle gate

through knotted woods

and wading creeks

along the edges

of the sea.

She didn’t stop

until she reached

the cliffs of Mayberrie.

 .

There she saw fresh footprints

and followed to their secret glen.

The old elm tree

still spread its limbs,

its branches grown

since last they met.

She wrapped the cloth

around its trunk

and rested in the shade

until the sun fell westerly

and she must journey home.

 .

That night she slept,

strange comfort

in her weariness,

while somewhere lay

a slumbering king

warmed by a cloth

of blue and green

and two connected hearts

of purple-red.

 .

© 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

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For a list (and explanation) of all Mayberrie poems, please click on the “Mayberrie” tab at the top of this blog.

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Ring

(A Mayberrie poem)

.

At dusk

she lit a candle

as a heavy mist

rolled in

from off the sea.

The trees rained softly

just outside her door

and seemed to speak

into the gloom:

 What about the ring?

The ring -

this deep-carved ring

of honest gold

reflecting sparks of light

around the room -

she wished it too would speak.

 .

Shadows grew,

she heard the trees

still whispering

and put the candle out.

Curled into bed

she closed her eyes

and felt the ring expand,

grow warm,

no longer on her finger

but encircling her body

like two strong arms

that held her

through the night.

It needed not a voice

nor words, to speak.

 .

© 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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(For a list of all poems in this series, please click on the Mayberrie tab at the top of this blog.)

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