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Archive for the ‘Maeberie series’ Category

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Skipping Stones cover

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“Skipping Stones” is now available on Amazon.com,  (https://tinyurl.com/yccscdzk)  and Barnes & Noble!  

Many thanks to Thomas and Ethel Davis at Four Windows Press, and to Lauren Scott and Candice Daquin for their cover reviews. 

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Skipping Stones cover

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I’m very excited to announce that my poetry book, “Skipping Stones”, will be available on Amazon later this month!  It’s being published by “Four Windows Press”.

“Skipping Stones” has four sections, and it includes the Maeberrie fantasy, which some of you are familiar with. (My two characters now have names!)

The photo for the cover was taken by my son, Jason.

I’ll keep you posted when the book is released.

Thank you very much to my readers, and to Four Windows Press, for your support through the years. ❤

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(A Maeberie poem)

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Usually in the hills

she found her peace

but now the crows

were clamoring

above her head,

Let go!  they cawed,

Move on, move on!

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She raised her hand

for them to stop

and weary, slid

her body down

beneath a tree

and fell into a reverie

of grassy meadow,

sapphire sky

beyond corporeality

and there

she found him waiting.

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He laid his sword

upon the ground,

the battle won,

no more to hide.

Their hearts grew full

of silver light

two scintillating souls entwined

in mutual fascination.

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When she awoke

day had turned

to shadowed night,

the crows had flown

and all was quiet

on the path

that took her home

while high above, unnoticed

twirled a dancing double star.

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© 2012, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2012, revised)

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A path leads down to the river,

the river runs down to the sea

where the gulls

and the zephyr that follow

bring naught but a daydream to me.

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He rides his steed to the chapel,

he coaxes his lamb to the lee

while the music

and footprints that follow

bring naught but a fancy to me.

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(c)  1993, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(A Maeberie series poem, re-posted from 2012)

 

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Earth freezes

when the comet

spreads his tail

like a dove.

She covers tiny trees

against the frost

and watches

till the fan of indigo

folds and disappears.

Once in a lifetime

or a thousand years

it matters not,

she’ll know him

by his steel blue

when he comes again.

 

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(c) 1996, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post, revised)

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Sometimes it opens

just a crack,

that heavy door –

and she will see

his lamp aflame

and though she’s not

the only one

to bring his tray,

his cup of ale,

she always comes

to mind the steel

in his eyes,

those eyes

that recognize the fool,

that see the masks

of dark agenda

in the winks of falsity.

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She always comes

that he may rest awhile.

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She lets him count

the gathers

and the pleating

in her bodice,

and she lets him

fold her hair

across his face

to hide his smile.

And she will stay

for just awhile

until the moon has risen

and he calls out

for the guard

to secret her away.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(a Maeberie series poem, revised)

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After the fire plays,

after he’s gone

she leaves her heart

in ashes

nestled on the bed

and slips outside

to bury time

in earth

where it belongs.

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And sometimes

there’s a spark

when her trowel

hits a rock

and she smiles

at the thought

of that blazing

stand of man

and how she became

a goddess

when he touched her

with his flame.

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(c) 1996, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post from 2012, revised)

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(a Mayberrie poem)

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Once a week

she braves the village,

trades her woven scarves

for bread and cheese,

and candle sticks.

She offers just a veiled smile

and searches every face;

she dare not speak

of things she shouldn’t know.

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At dusk she climbs the deer path

to her cottage on the hill

and there she lights one candle stick.

As wisps of smoke slide up the wall

like lovers twined

she gazes at the flame and sees

battle-weary men at rest

tending to their fire;

and there!

in the shadowed edge

a single silhouette.

He turns her way

as though he feels her near.

 

She reaches through

the waxen light

and hangs her heart

around his neck,

then throwing kisses

to the night

she banks the fire

in his eyes

and blows the candle out.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(A re-post, revised)

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Old castle rests on brambled shores

near curling leaves and browning lawn

as ivy coils through empty doors

where once his golden sword was drawn.

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For long ago the tower stood

shaped by wind and gleaming stones

and from the chapel in the wood

they heard the bell and felt the groans

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of lovers locked in false embrace

of thunder scavenged from the deep

where only he could show his face –

his mistress turned away to weep.

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They could not march beyond the hill

for fate had measured out their time

and all they touched was cold and still

and none could prove there’d been a crime.

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A dozen years but none to save

for lovers no more ring the bell.

Calla lilies crown the graves

where once an army rose and fell.

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And now the castle sleeps on shores

near curling leaves and browning lawn

as ivy coils across the floors

where once Excalibur was drawn.

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©  1993,  2016   Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post of a Mayberrie poem)

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(a Mayberrie poem)

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Wandering through her garden

she could smell the vegetables

and began to hunger

for some butter-dumpling stew.

It had been his favorite long ago. 

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.

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Pacing in the courtyard

he caught his reflection

in the pond.

Who was this king

to love a servant girl –

his young 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. 

All he needed now

was just a little time.

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© 2012, 2016 Betty Hayes Albright

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(This is a re-post – slightly revised.)

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

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