Posted in Poetry 1980's, tagged darkness, light, Love, nature, poem, Poetry, winter, Winter Solstice on December 29, 2018| 38 Comments »
.
Afternoon gloom —
I know it will soon
be time to tread the snowy path home.
.
A distant candle
lights the way
to my fire, my books, and my love.
.
And tomorrow the sun
will rise a bit sooner
dispelling the darkness a little bit longer,
.
melting away
the frostbitten edge
of this unsung penumbra of night.
.
.
(c) 1988, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(An old, unpublished poem, taken out of mothballs.)
.
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged empathy, grief, Love, mourning, poem, Poetry, snow, winter on December 13, 2018| 28 Comments »
.
I still remember
your winter mourning
when you were dark-empty
.
and I reached
through the ether
and wrapped my arms
around your shadow
tasting your hard tears
.
and you stood taller than light
with grief,
new-fallen and noble
as the snow.
.
.
(c) 1994, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Posted in Poetry 1980's, tagged autumn, fall, leaves, Love, passion, poem, Poetry, winter on December 1, 2018| 23 Comments »
.
Falling brittle down
through the fog
I crack and break.
.
You take me carefully
to your hearth
once more –
we knew I’d never last
till winter.
.
When the fog lifts
I crumble,
await another spring.
.
.
(c) 1982, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(From 1982, never before published, so pretend it’s new. 😉 )
.
Posted in Haiku and Senryu, Poetry 2010 - present, tagged birch trees, endurance, Gaia, nature, poem, Poetry, senryu, survival, winter on February 17, 2018| 39 Comments »
..
.
Birch trees catch my eye
deep in the trough of winter
white bark withstanding.
.
.
© 2014, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Partial of an original watercolor by my grandmother,
Lilly Bjornstad. (She painted this when she was about 100. She lived to 108.)
.
(re-post)
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged fall, life, poem, Poetry, spring, summer, time, time flies...., winter on February 3, 2018| 38 Comments »
.
They leak out
from the calendar –
seconds, minutes lost.
They steal away
into the fog
and freeze to winter’s frost.
.
I close my eyes
and there’s an hour
missing from the day.
It turned into
a floppy kite
and spring blew it away.
.
Dripping
through my fingers
another day has gone,
evaporated
yesterday
from summer’s placid pond.
.
And soon a year
has fallen
bright confetti on the ground
and I wonder
if we’ll ever have
the time to just slow down.
.
.
© 1992, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(….and another 26 years has flown by since writing this….)
.
(a re-post)
Posted in Deep Water, Poetry 2010 - present, tagged Deep Water, Gaia, longing, Love, memories, nature, patience, poem, Poetry, Trees, winter on January 20, 2018| 33 Comments »
.
Are they really lifeless
those empty arms
of winter
branching leafless
in naked grace?
Gaia says no,
that deep in frozen dreams
memories thicken,
sweet syrup
of other times gone
and dreams to come.
Till then these aching limbs
reach out to the silence,
bare
but not barren.
.
.
© 2013, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(a re-post)
Posted in Poetry 2010 - present, tagged Christmas, holidays, poem, Poetry, spirituality, sun, winter, Winter Solstice on December 18, 2017| 40 Comments »
.
Underneath the frost it turns
hidden in a fog it churns
winter snaps its coiled whip
cracks the ice but holds its grip.
It wraps the trees in shiver beads
chews on shadows, spits out seeds
to grace the gardens flocked in sleep
waiting for that northward leap
of the wandering, prodigal sun.
.
.
© 2014, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Wishing everyone a gentle Winter’s Solstice
and a peaceful celebration of the holidays – the holy days –
whichever days are sacred to you.
For in the end, each day is sacred and precious.
Click on image.
