LISA'S POEMS
PENELOPE'S LAMENT
Perhaps today.
Perhaps today my Love, my Odysseus will return to me.
All day, while the sun shines, I walk and sit in my garden,
And wait - for his return.
I listen for a shout from someone who has seen his ship.
I listen for his footstep at the gate.
Cruel Fate! Cruel Gods! That you have kept Odysseus
From me so long.
If he were here with me, together we would
Enjoy this sweet and lovely garden.
While birds play in the wind
I would pick these fragrant flowers and lay them in his hand,
Roses bright as rubies, and tiny fragile blooms of blue and white.
I would weave a golden crown of dandelions
To place upon his noble head,
And I would hear his sweet voice laugh!
We would walk once more together in the olive grove
And I would know again, at last, the pleasure of his kiss.
Cruel Gods! Where is he? My Love, my Odysseus!
Cruel and unmerciful Immortals! Have I displeased you so?
I challenge you! I draw this sword!
Show yourself to me in mortal form and we shall duel!
Odysseus did not choose a fearful and passionless woman!
So draw your sword! Stand before me now and let us fight!
If I win - you shall return Odysseus to me today!
If I lose - then strike me dead!
For I would rather die and make an end of this
Than live so dull a life without my Love.
Cruel Fate! Cruel Gods! Cowards all - for you do not appear.
You will not even tell me if he is alive or dead.
The sun glows red and sinks into the mist.
A light breeze blows; the night grows chill.
The evening stars appear.
I will dry my tears.
And climb the stairs to my balcony
To look out upon the sea.
The moon is bright tonight;
While it shines I will sit
And watch the sea for any sign of sail.
Perhaps tonight my Love, my Odysseus will return to me.
Perhaps tonight.
♫ ♪ ♫
KNIGHT'S DREAM
A traveler, young knight in shining armor,
Seeker of the Holy Grail,
Paused in forest deep to rest.
Through dark of night he slept till dawn - and dreamed
Wild fantasies of glorious battles and dragons slain,
Of icy mountains and stormy seas,
Of love and ecstasy, flight and fulfillment.
While he slept, a creature came -
Like butterfly on iridescent wing,
Fleeting, fragile, slender, quiet -
A woman in child-form?
A child in woman-form?
Wild, deer-like and curious,
Seeking refuge in his warmth and fire.
The creature lay down beside him,
Curled in his arms,
She shared his dream, his passion, his body.
The knight slept on,
And dreamed - till morn.
Dawn came, rosy-gold and soft.
Lighthearted and refreshed did the gentle knight awake -
Gentler than the armored one who paused in forest deep to rest,
And wiser - from the battles he had fought,
And older - than the roaring rivers he had crossed - in dream.
He stretched and shook himself from sleep and dream.
Had they been dreams?
Had he been alone that night - or touched by some small,
strange and unseen thing?
SEASON’S GIFTS
Crunching snow, candle glow
Knitted mitten, wishes written
Tinkling bells, baking smells
Twinkly star, cookie jar
Hidden gift, hopes a-lift.
Gentle breeze, blooming trees
Daffodil, robin’s trill
Garden seeds, pulling weeds
Kites to fly, windy sky
Grass newly-greened, new feathers preened.
Sandy beach, juicy peach
Ocean spray, balmy day
Lemon-ade, brooks to wade
Crispy pickle, friendly tickle
Warm, starry night, soft moon-light bright.
Pumpkin pie, geese a-fly
Chilling rain, rumbling train
Fields of wheat, restless feet
Sharing talk, hand-held walk
Crisp, golden leaves; cool, thoughtful eves.
by Lisa Hathaway
© Lisa Hathaway, 1992