Posted in Deep Water, Maeberie series, tagged ashes, Deep Water, fire, goddess, Love, Maeberie series, memory, passion, poem, Poetry, Prometheus, time on September 27, 2017| 28 Comments »
.
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.
.
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.
.
.
(c) 1996, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(re-post from 2012, revised)
Posted in Poetry 2010 - present, tagged ashes, death, loss, memorial, mountain, mountain climb, Mt. Rainier, poem, Poetry on August 10, 2017| 41 Comments »
.
.
A simple thing
to scatter his ashes
one would think
but Mt. Rainier
will never be
the same.
.
© 2017 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Image of Mt. Rainier from Wikipedia Commons
.
Posted in Poetry 1960's, tagged ashes, drama, Love, poem, Poetry, teenage angst, young romance on August 13, 2014| 11 Comments »
(written in 1964 – age 17.)
.
(c) B. Albright 1965, 2014
I finished it off last night, my love
with the embers I had kept
when you blew out your half of our love,
I finished it off and I wept.
.
With ashes you had left behind
I fanned a spark that remained
and when it was lit, burnt my half of our love
then watched it like someone deranged.
.
I watched the thick smoke disappear
and knew I could never pretend
that our ashes could ever be otherwise –
then I scattered them into the wind.
.
(c) 1964, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright
Pencil drawing – (c) 1965, 2014
Posted in Poetry 1980's, tagged ashes, Barbara Pierce Seibold, mourning, mt. st. helens, Pan, poem, Poetry, premonition, volcano on May 16, 2014| 20 Comments »
.
Where’s your dance, old tree?
The music blows,
let’s see you sway,
I long to hear
your rustling green.
Did winter tighten up your knots
and sap your limbs so soon?
What’s this?
It seems Pan left you
tail tucked between his legs
when he saw the horizon
turning black
instead of blue.
And now I too
must hurry off
to find my cave and pray
that the dawn
will turn our mourning
into day.
.
(c) 1980, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright
.
.Written in March, 1980 – two months before Mt. St. Helens erupted, on May 18th. A premonition, perhaps….
57 people were killed, including my close friend Barbara Pierce Seibold.
Click on image for more info.
Seasonings 