.
When she called his name
to the north wind
it roared
through the trees
and made her winter green.
.
When she called his name
to the mountainside
it rose
up the ridge
like a fever.
.
When she called his name
to the racing sky
it echoed
like a dozen geese
searching for a season.
.
When she called his name
to the ocean
it churned
to salt butter
on her toast.
.
When she called his name
to a sliver of moon
it hung like a lamp
on the dark side
of doubt
and this time she knew
that he heard.
.
(c) 1995, 2017Β Betty Hayes Albright
.
(a re-post from 2013)
.
Absolutely beautiful
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Thank you so much! π¦
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You’re welcome π
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Oh, I love the deep water poems, Betty. This is absolutely wonderful.
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Thank you, Thomas. I appreciate all your encouragement through the years. (Am still intending to email you soon with questions about your Four Windows Press for the Mayberrie poems that you had suggested.)
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Beautiful poem. Hope endures.
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Thank you, and yes it does. π»
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Very apt for now Betty π
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Hi Willow, thank you for liking it. π
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I really did
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You’re always so kind! β€οΈπππ
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No Just honest πππ
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Enjoyed your poem on this blistering SoCal day.
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Wish I could send some cooling breezes down to you, Charlie. Hope you don’t end up with another bad drought this year.
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I love this for so many reasons. There is no separation between us and the natural world; between love, a lover, and the elements. Bravo.
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Thank you, Bela! And I agree, we’re all connected in this beautiful web of life.
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Beautiful poem that sent shivers down my spine from the feelings it evokes..
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Val, I’m happy you found it evocative. Thank you for your kind words!
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Your decent is very well written. Word picture weaving is your gift. Love this, Betty. The last stanza made me catch my breath. So good.
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Thank you so much, Audrey! I’m glad you liked. π
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Sons, lovers, deities. We call to them all. Beautifully written; a fine balance between sadness and joy.
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Thank you for all your kind words, Ben. I appreciate it. π¦
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Delicious verse, it is moving in many ways at once . . . has beckoned me back to read it over a few times; so beautiful.
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Thank you very much, I’m glad it moved you! π
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An entrancing, beautiful poem, Betty. I love the way she throws herself open to nature in her quest and is finally rewarded with a glimpse beyondβ¦
Aye, a poem to buoy up our spirits in these challenging times.
Paul
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Paul, forgive me – somehow I missed this lovely comment of yours.
Thank you so much! Your words have buoyed me up today, even though I didn’t find them for a few weeks. (Not sure what happened – I normally used the WP app in my cellphone which notifies me of comments. Wonder what other ones I’ve missed!)
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Winter green fever. This is a climb into the moutains. Such a beautiful volly of insights my friend.
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Thank you, Candice! π
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An evocative poem that echoes in the mind like the voice it portrays. I was wondering if the 12 geese refer to the twelve months of the year…
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Thank you for your comment! As for the dozen geese, I appreciate your question. At the time I wrote it (in 1995) it wasn’t a reference to anything in particular – the “dozen” just sounded right. π Glad you liked it!
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When she called his name
to a sliver of moon
it hung like a lamp
on the dark side
of doubt
and this time she knew
that he heard.
It is always a blessing to be heard, it’s the little signs that mean the world β€
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That’s so true about being heard – thank you, Kim. πΈπ
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