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?

 

SEASONíS 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, robinís 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

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