~The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread XIX~

March 24, 2005 | ~bentfeather ~ Poets of The Lair~

[Soaring Feather]

My Dragon Fly and Me

If I could be a Dragon Fly
and wing my way through the sky
I would never be shy
just me and my Dragon Fly!

By moonlight we ride the wind
chase the comets tail for fun
by day we would hide from the sun
our fragile wings would come undone

On darkest nights we would use
fireflies as our guide
we would dip and we would glide
through the heavens open wide
and scatter diamonds in the night sky
my Dragon Fly and me...

And we would wing past our lovers
silent in the night...
to kiss their face in our flight
much to their surprise and delight
my Dragon Fly and me in sight...

Such a view do we share
away up here in the air
of breezes soft through our hair
my Dragon Fly and me a pair...

bentfeather©

[Soaring Feather]

This is a very powerful and poignant poem.

Thank You.

[ColoCdn]

ping for great poem.

[Soaring Feather]

HOPE YOU ENJOY --AND UNDERSTAND US OLD FOLK A BIT BETTER

The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.

Old age, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, the jiggly thighs, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read until 4 a.m. and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50's, and if I at the same time wish to weep over a lost love, I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging midriff, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten - and I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say "no", and mean it. I can say "yes", and mean it. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be.

And I shall eat dessert every single day!

[Soaring Feather]

Admin Mod: bentfeather messed up the Roman Numeral at the top of the page.

Would you please correct this error?? Should read...XIX.

Sorry about that and thank you very much. bentfeather

[Soaring Feather]

"My Heart Is Heavy"

by Sarah Teasdale

My heart is heavy with many a song
Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree,
But I can never give you one --
My songs do not belong to me.

Yet in the evening, in the dusk
When moths go to and fro,
In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen,
Take it, no one will know.

[Soaring Feather]

"Oh Day of Fire and Sun"
by Sarah Teasdale

Oh day of fire and sun,
Pure as a naked flame,
Blue sea, blue sky and dun
Sands where he spoke my name;

Laughter and hearts so high
That the spirit flew off free,
Lifting into the sky
Diving into the sea;

Oh day of fire and sun
Like a crystal burning,
Slow days go one by one,
But you have no returning.

[Soaring Feather]

A Deep-Sworn Vow
by William Butler Yeats

OTHERS because you did not keep
That deep-sworn vow have been friends of mine;
Yet always when I look death in the face,
When I clamber to the heights of sleep,
Or when I grow excited with wine,
Suddenly I meet your face.

[Soaring Feather]

After Long Silence
by William Butler Yeats

Speech after long silence; it is right,
All other lovers being estranged or dead,
Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,
The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.

[Old Sarge]

I sit beneath the moon's globe,
beneath the pines, beneath the stars,
laptop in my lap, but silence in my heart.

I look again, and it's not pine,
but palm trees overhead!

It's not Coke in my glass,
but Colada!

Those aren't tanks, and generators,
but rather sailboats and seagulls!

But even with all this,
The moon - She's still the same.

(c)03-25-05 by JSR

[Texas Songwriter]

Hello Ms.Bentfeather,

I have been meaning to send to your website this point. It is my favorite poem of them all. It seems I need to put it there for others to see.

The Fool's Prayer

The royal feast was done;the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried:"Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!"

The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.

He bowed his head and bent his knee
Upon the monarch's silken stool;
His pleading voice arose; "O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!"

"No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin; but Lord
Be merciful to me a fool".

"Tis not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
'Tis by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away".

"These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend".

"The ill-timed truth we might have kept-
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say-
Who know how grandly it had rung?"

"Our faults not tenderness should ask,
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders-oh, in shame
Before the eyes of Heaven we fall".

"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will;but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me a fool!"

The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
"Be merciful to me, a fool!"


Edward R. Sill
April 29,1841-February 27,1887

[Soaring Feather]

Oh boy, Sarge you wanna make me cry.

I sit beneath the moon's globe,
beneath the pines, beneath the stars,
laptop in my lap, but silence in my heart.

And alone again I sit
under a moon so full
with empty arms and silence
as my tool

A song to sing- a soul to move
with words carefully picked
from dictionaries full and thick
the right word I must choose

to weave a spell or pull a trick
as a jester in the court of fools
to weave the gossamer so thick
a silken mat of prose
of weeping hearts,
and silver dreams,
but still a lonely fool

bentfeather
03.25.05

[Colonel_Flagg]

Good evening, Miss Feather!

Teasdale is incomparable. Happy Easter to you and yours. :)

[Soaring Feather]

Thank You for sharing this poem. I have not seen it until now. So powerful.

[Soaring Feather]

Good evening Colonel. Thank you for the Easter wishes. The same to you and yours.

Since you gave us Sarah I often read her.

[Colonel_Flagg]

I have the feeling I'm going to be reading quite a bit of Teasdale in the upcoming days. Thank you for the wonderful reminder of my Lair roots :)

[Soaring Feather]

When are we going to read a Colonel original again??

Sara is wonderful, but so are you!! :-)

[Old Sarge]

No need to be this way,
for it's only the mask of the day,
for under starlight and gentle moon's ray,
the troubles leave us together.

You speak of weaving,
and not of leaving
cares behind you - rather
making it part of the mesh,
the cares and the cloth together.

Join me on the terrace,
smell the suckle on the trellis,
and gaze up at that moon,
and join my eyes there, yours and mine,
together.

(c) 03-25-05 by JSR

[Colonel_Flagg]

Well, aren't you nice .. let me see what I can do. :)

[Soaring Feather]

a sparkling beam
a lone shaft of light
bearing down on two
people of the night
cast in embrace
shelter permanent hold
like precious metals
a thing to behold

[Old Sarge]

On such a night,
mists creep around us,
shivering and shimmering
comes the moonlight
touching eyes, making
sparkles in the depths<

How good it is
to reach and touch
gentle caress in moonlight
beams around our feet
no music needed
but our selves.