Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘fire’

.

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)

Read Full Post »

(a Mayberrie poem)

.

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.

 .

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.

.

©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(A re-post, revised)

Read Full Post »

.

She holds a sphere

of white hot light

in hands stretched high

to reach the night.

“Oh Eros”, she prays secretly,

“come take this round

of your creation,

guard its flame

forever more

and I’ll dance gratefully

in the embers,

one man’s fire

seared into my palm.

.

(c)  1995, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

.

(a re-post)

Read Full Post »

.

IMG_6691

.

She feels the golden stand

between her palms,

follows every curve

with fingers

searching for the essence

of a splintered block of tree

as he spun and shaped it

on his lathe,

then polished gently

with his sacred oil.

.

Now she lights the candle

and watches

as the blush of flame

smooths up the walls

inside her heart

and out into the night.

She muses on a memory

and wonders

if he’ll ever know

how his soul-fire

lit her world

and turned the sky

a warmer shade of light.

 .

© 2013, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

(a re-post)

.

Candle holder in photo created by the DutchMan.

 

Read Full Post »

(from 1979)

.

When our skin

grows thin

and our eyes

have finally dimmed

we’ll blow on that

charred piece of coal

(the one that never cooled)

until it catches fire again.

We’ll crawl inside

and melt cold bones

into an alabaster stone

and there we’ll carve

our epitaph:

Never Say Die.

.

(c) 1979, 2015  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(re-posted from 2011)

Read Full Post »

(a re-post from 2012)

.

And after the blaze, what?

Would they,

like snow on fire

end in vapor

against the starry night?

She stands below his mountaintop

frozen to her ache

and lights a match.

.

(c) 1995, 2014  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Read Full Post »

(Just a silly little verse, written during one of our recent thunder storms.)

.

Said Lightning to the thunder,

I am in charge of you!

You haven’t any color

but I’m electric blue.

 .

Said Thunder to the lightning,

I’m the one they hear.

You’re just a random fork of light

but I inspire fear.

 .

Said Lightning to the thunder,

I turn night time into day,

I’ll crack my whip and sheet the sky

while you just roll away.

 .

Said Thunder to the lightning,

‘t is I that moves the air.

You’re just a ziggy-zaggy flash

but I give earth a scare.

 .

Said Lightning to the thunder,

watch me – I’ll make a flame

by striking every target,

but thunder has no aim.

 .

Then from the ground rose Fire

writhing towards the sky,

I am master here now,

both of you can say goodbye.

 .

But just in time came Rain, who cried:

this land is all my own.         

I’m putting out your careless fire

now go – leave Earth alone.

 .

And still they argued back and forth

till Wind came out to play.

He laughed and roared with wild delight

and blew the storm away.

 .

© 2013, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

(A re-post from 2 years ago)

.

She goes not lightly

to that place,

a candle (eine Kerze)

Image via Wikipedia

not without a candle

does she climb

to where he waits

in ancient cave.

He wears no mask,

just polished sight

as he tools words

on skins of truth

then tender-lights

her candle

in his fire.

.

(c) 1995, 2013  Betty Hayes Albright

Read Full Post »

IMG_6691

.

She feels the golden stand

between her palms,

follows every curve

with fingers

searching for the essence

of a splintered block of tree

as he spun and shaped it

on his lathe,

then polished gently

with his sacred oil.

.

Now she lights the candle

and watches

as the blush of flame

smooths up the walls

inside her heart

and out into the night.

She muses on a memory

and wonders

if he’ll ever know

how his soul-fire

lit her world

and turned the sky

a warmer shade of light.

 .

© 2013, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Candle holder in photo created by the DutchMan.

Read Full Post »

Each moment

is a clean slate.

We write on it

with ink that burns us,

weep on it

with tears that boil,

toss it on a hickory stove

and melt its glow

like muddied snow.

But every second

rights itself

into a guiltless fire.

Each instant

is a longing grace

that scalds us clean

with each new conflagration

and lo!

we learn to temper self

and kindle our own flame.

.

©  2012  Betty Hayes Albright  

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: