First Move

First Move

Janelle Spiers 

Out of sight, out of mind,

But would you please look behind,

You’ve moved on without me

Now it’s dark, I can’t see. 

Would you throw me a rope,

Because it’s all I can hope.

Could you make the first move,

Show me light, won’t you prove

That I’m not by myself in this strange new world. 

Out of light, out of shine,

I’ve been doing just fine

But you’ve moved on without me

Now it’s dark. I can’t see.

I’m too proud to shout,

Won’t you help me get out?

Could you make the first move,

Show me light, won’t you prove

That I’m not by myself in this cold new world. 

Out of sight, out of mind,

Maybe we’re blind.

You’ve moved on without me

It’s so dark. I can’t see.

If I stretch out my hand

Will you help me to stand?

Could you make the first move,

Show me light, won’t you prove

That I’m not by myself in this dark new world. 

National Poetry Day

October 8 is National Poetry Day!

There are just too many poems to share to celebrate this momentous occasion. We could spend hours upon hours reading Keats, Byron, Emerson, Longfellow, Silverstein, and that's the tiniest list of poets I've ever seen! Imagine how long it could take to share all those poems!

Instead, I'll share something that I've written. I may not be as famous as Emily Dickinson or E.E. Cummings, but that's all right, because anyone can be a poet. Anyone who says the words that are written on their heart is a poet. Good thing there are so many forms to choose from, we can be our own poets.

And so without further ado, here is a series of poems I wrote. Happy National Poetry Day!

"Trees" 

by Janelle Spiers

I.

They cut the trees with merciless ease

Felling the stories and rings.

With shattering sighs and gasps for breath

They leveled the growing things.

The dryads screamed for mercy

But they were drowned out by the roar

Of the mighty machine with its teeth like knives

Hungrily gnawing for more.

Green leaves fell down like salty tears

And watered the broken ground

As the spirits in the trees

Were crushed without a sound.

They cut the trees with merciless ease

To thin the verdure, green

Such sight and sound I now have heard,

But I wish it hadn’t been.

II.

In a wood they stood

Tall and proud

But now they lay

In aching shroud.

They used to sing

And tell us tales

But now I hear

Only pitiful wails.

Where once was beauty

Now is dying

Like worn out washing

Hung for drying.

Like corpses laid

On a funeral pyre

They wait for the end.

It will end in fire.

  

III.

All things must come to an end.

All things must come to pass.

Even fallen bodies lying

Cold upon the grass.

Drenched in oil, lit with sparks

But nary a word or tear.

Dancing flame upon the wood

And those who listen, hear:

Crying voices, all in pain

Shrieking from the heat.

Their moaning turns to whispers

As they suffer such defeat.

Death creeps close along the logs

Reveling in his feast

His orange tongue licks achingly

Over the deceased.

IV.

Burning snowflakes fall to earth

And land in drifts of dust.

The whispers of voices float around

And speak of fire’s lust.

Gentle ashes touch the ground

And darken up the soil.

A tiny touch on any piece

And the shape will surely spoil.

The memories of root and bark

Are floating through the sky

And when they touch the ground again

Their memory will die.

Burning snowflakes fall to earth

And sing their final song.

They tell of days when life was green,

Before their life was gone.

Tribute to Ellie

Tribute To Ellie

I didn't know you well, dear girl,

But I knew your precious heart.

Your smile, your grace,

Your beautiful face

Reflected who you are;

Reflected who you were. 

I wish I'd known you better, friend,

But from what I'd seen of you

You're kind, you're smart,

You're a work of art

And it shines with a light like gold;

It shone with a light like gold.

When first you met me smiling,

I saw beauty sharp and clear.

When last I saw you smiling, 

There was love, and never fear. 

I saw a glow that shone through you

With pure and radiate light.

You showered love like rain

And you fought the hardest fight. 

I think I know you now, dear girl,

I've seen your precious heart. 

Your joy, your grace, 

Your beautiful face

Reflected how you love;

Reflected how you loved. 

I wish I'd known you better, friend,

But from what I know of you

You were sweet, you were smart

You're a work of art

And it shines with the brightest light;

It shone with the brightest light. 

When first you met me smiling,

I saw beauty sharp and clear. 

Now we're left with a vision

A shadow of you, dear.

We see the light that shone in you

That will never cease to gleam.

You've changed the world in a gentle way;

You're the sweetest, brightest beam. 

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken

By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both 

And be one traveler, long I stood 

And looked down one as far as I could 

To where it bent in the undergrowth;  

Then took the other, as just as fair, 

And having perhaps the better claim, 

Because it was grassy and wanted wear; 

Though as for that the passing there 

Had worn them really about the same,  

And both that morning equally lay 

In leaves no step had trodden black. 

Oh, I kept the first for another day! 

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, 

I doubted if I should ever come back.  

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere ages and ages hence: 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.

We Must Sail...

Apparently, I'm not the only one who has sea-fever...

“I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving - we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it - but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.” 
― Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

Pirate Dreams

Needles and pins, Needles and pins,
Sew me a sail to catch me the wind.
Sew me a sail strong as the gale,
Carpenter, bring out your hammers and nails.
Hammers and nails, hammers and nails,
Build me a boat to go chasing the whales.
Chasing the whales, sailing the blue
Find me a captain and sign me a crew.
Captain and crew, captain and crew,
Take me, oh take me to anywhere new.

― Shel Silverstein

Lines

I die but when the grave shall press
The heart so long endeared to thee
When earthy cares no more distress
And earthy joys are nought to me.

Weep not, but think that I have past

Before thee o'er the sea of gloom.

Have anchored safe and rest at last

Where tears and mouring can not come.

'Tis I should weep to leave thee here

On that dark ocean sailing drear

With storms around and fears before

And no kind light to point the shore.

But long or short though life may be

'Tis nothing to eternity.

We part below to meet on high

Where blissful ages never die.

― Emily Brontë

Bilbo’s Last Song

Day is ended, dim my eyes,
But journey long before me lies.
Farewell, friends! I hear the call.
The ship's beside the stony wall.
Foam is white and waves are grey;
Beyond the sunset leads my way.
Foam is salt, the wind is free;
I hear the rising of the Sea.

Farewell, friends! The sails are set,

The wind is east, the moorings fret.

Shadows long before me lie,

Beneath the ever-bending sky,

But islands lie behind the Sun

That I shall raise ere all is done;

Lands there are to west of West,

Where night is quiet and sleep is rest.

Guided by the Lonely Star,

Beyond the utmost harbour-bar,

I’ll find the heavens fair and free,

And beaches of the Starlit Sea.

Ship, my ship! I seek the West,

And fields and mountains ever blest.

Farewell to Middle-earth at last.

I see the Star above my mast!

― J.R.R. Tolkien

Happy Birthday, Robert Frost!

Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets, and as his birthday happens to fall today, I thought he needed a post of his own.  Happy Birthday, Robert Frost!

“In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.”  

“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.”  

“Some say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I've tasted of desire,I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twiceI think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction iceIs also greatAnd would suffice.” 

“If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane.” 

“Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.”

“Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can't, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.” 

“Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.” 

“Nature's first green is gold,Her hardest hue to hold.Her early leaf's a flower;But only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf.So Eden sank to grief,So dawn goes down to day.Nothing gold can stay.”   

“Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up.”

Across Such Stormy Waters

Across a pool of liquid glass

I know my sailor sails the sea

He, my man, and I, his lass,

I wait for him to come to me

Across a pool of liquid glass.

Across that distant rolling dune

I know my sailor thinks of me

His briny heart, it sings the tune

Of our distant lover's-song

Across that distant rolling dune.

Across a mirror of shining sun

I know my sailor feels the chill

Regardless of the Warming One,

There's a tempest, cold and shrill

Across a mirror of shining sun.

Across the waves of ocean

My heart pines for my man

His ship, forever in motion,

Leaves me far away on land

Across the waves of ocean. 

Across such stormy waters

My heart shall brave the gale.

The only children left are daughters;

The race of sailors soon will fail

Across such stormy waters.

Across a pool of liquid glass

I know my sailor thinks of me

He, my man, and I, his lass,

I wait for him to come to me

Across a pool of liquid glass.

The Ivy Green

The Ivy Green

Charles Dickens

Oh, a dainty plant is the Ivy green,

That creepeth o'er ruins old!

Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,

In his cell so lone and cold.

The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed,

To pleasure his dainty whim:

And the mouldering dust that years have made

Is a merry meal for him.

Creeping where no life is seen,

A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings,

And a staunch old heart has he.

How closely he twineth, how tight he clings

To his friend the huge Oak Tree!

And slyly he traileth along the ground,

And his leaves he gently waves,

As he joyously hugs and crawleth round

The rich mould of dead men's graves.

Creeping where grim death hath been,

A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

             

Whole ages have fled and their works decayed,

And nations have scattered been;

But the stout old Ivy shall never fade,

From its hale and hearty green.

The brave old plant, in its lonely days,

Shall fatten upon the past:

For the stateliest building man can raise

Is the Ivy's food at last.

Creeping on where time has been,

A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

When We Two Parted

WHEN WE TWO PARTED
Lord Byron

WHEN we two parted

In silence and tears,

Half broken-hearted

To sever for years,

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,

Colder thy kiss;

Truly that hour foretold

Sorrow to this.

 

The dew of the morning

Sunk chill on my brow--

It felt like the warning

Of what I feel now.

Thy vows are all broken,

And light is thy fame:

I hear thy name spoken,

And share in its shame.

 

They name thee before me,

A knell to mine ear;

A shudder comes o'er me--

Why wert thou so dear?

They know not I knew thee,

Who knew thee too well:

Lond, long shall I rue thee,

Too deeply to tell.

 

I secret we met--

I silence I grieve,

That thy heart could forget,

Thy spirit deceive.

If I should meet thee

After long years,

How should I greet thee?

With silence and tears.

Books ~ By Edgar Guest

I discovered these lovely little poems and found them fit to be shared. Enjoy!

A Book

 Edgar Guest

“Now” - said a good book unto me 

“Open my pages and you shall see

Jewels of wisdom and treasures fine,

Gold and silver in every line,

And you may claim them if you but will

Open my pages and take your fill.

“Open my pages and run them o’er,

Take what you choose of my golden store.

Be you greedy, I shall not care -

All that you seize I shall gladly spare;

There is never a lock on my treasure doors,

Come - here are my jewels, make them yours!

“I am just a book on your mantel shelf,

But I can be part of your living self;

If only you’ll travel my pages through,

Then I will travel the world with you.

As two wines blended make better wine,

Blend your mind with these truths of mine.

“I’ll make you fitter to talk with men,

I’ll touch with silver the lines you pen,

I’ll lead you nearer the truth you seek,

I’ll strengthen you when your faith grows weak -

This place on your shelf is a prison cell,

Let me come into your mind to dwell!”

What book is on your shelf today that really ought to come down and be enjoyed? What book do you have marked, in the middle of being read?  And what book did you just set down with a sigh or teary eye, longing for more?

Good Books
Edgar Guest

Good books are friendly things to own.
If you are busy they will wait.
They will not call you on the phone
Or wake you if the hour is late.
They stand together row by row,
Upon the low shelf or the high.
But if you're lonesome this you know:
You have a friend or two nearby.

The fellowship of books is real.

They're never noisy when you're still.

They won't disturb you at your meal.

They'll comfort you when you are ill.

The lonesome hours they'll always share.

When slighted they will not complain.

And though for them you've ceased to care

Your constant friends they'll still remain.

Good books your faults will never see

Or tell about them round the town.

If you would have their company

You merely have to take them down.

They'll help you pass the time away,

They'll counsel give if that you need.

He has true friends for night and day

Who has a few good books to read.

A Ship

A Ship

Original Poem by Janelle Spiers

A ship is a rollicking, wild phantom,

Soaring across the waving seas.

A ship is a wild, flying bird

To take us where we please.

The ship is a carpet of fairy dust,

Magic and wholly untrue.

Sweet ships are a kiss upon the lips

As they bring me home to you.

Where are the sails and briny oars?

Show me the rigging and sandy shores --

Dip me a flagon of ocean chill

And the rolling waves that can't keep still.

Hand me adventure and splintered wood

And all that's wet, and salty, and good.

A ship is a conquistador of old,

Driving heavily through the rain.

A ship is a princess who catches my eye

And carries away all of my pain.

The ship is a secret treasure,

Buried beneath the yards of sail.

The ship is Lord of the Sea,

King of fish and mighty whale.

Where is the creak of rolling madness?

Show me the sails of departing sadness --

Dip me a flagon of salty sea,

And the rolling waves that call to me.

Hand me freedom and coiled ropes

And all that's bright with salty hopes.

Sorting Shattered Fragments

Yesterday, on January 12, five years ago, a huge earthquake rocked the country of Haiti at a 7.0 on the Richter scale.  By January 24, at least 52 aftershocks were recorded, at 4.5 or greater.  Three million people were estimated to be affected by the devastation, and numbers ranged from 100,000 to 220,000 in death toll. The horrific catastrophe left many people homeless, hungry, wounded, orphaned, widowed, or childless.


The earthquake struck when I was ten, and my young heart was touched by the heavy weight of death and sorrow in Haiti. I wrote a short story about the quake and though it is simple and little, the message touched many who read it at the time.

The Story of a Tear ~ Janelle Spiers

          I am a tear.  I am a tear welling up in the eye of a girl.  She has just gotten word that a loved one is in Haiti.  In Haiti, a terrible earthquake has destroyed everything.

         I will now begin my journey; it is a journey of sorrow and a journey of hope.  As I trickle down her cheek she leans over to say a prayer, and I fall into Yellowstone Lake.

         When I fall into the water, I start to sparkle out among the fern.  All around me I can see beauty and the evidence of a living God. I think about these things as I make my way out of the lake and into the river.

         Days later I reach Yellowstone River.  I’m in Montana, which is the name of a popular hotel in Haiti, where many people were trapped.  God knows each one by name, and He has not forgotten them.

         I go through lake Sakakawea, the Missouri river, through lake Oahe and back into the Missouri.  I head into Kansas City and join the big, roaring Mississippi river. The roar causes me to think of the people crying out in pain.  I shudder at the thought.  So many people died.  So many loved ones lost - so much agony, suffering, and pain. How can they go on unless they have hope – hope in the One who can turn ashes into beauty.  I share their sorrow, and like them I must go on.   

I sail down the Mississippi River all the way down to New Orleans.  Suddenly, I think about hurricane Katrina, which devastated this city just five years ago.  How terrible it was!  I realize that the people here are moving beyond their grief and on with life.  They’re rebuilding their lives and regaining hope! 

I make a sudden sally through the delta and I chatter as I flow right into the Gulf of Mexico! But my journey doesn’t end here.  I make my way toward Haiti to share my grief but also my hopes; hopes for the people too not only survive but to thrive.        

            

            So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

            I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous

            Right hand.

                                                            Isaiah 41:10

Years later, when I read over my simple thoughts and hurting heart, I remember.  I remember the people of Haiti, those who lived there, those who died there, and those that live there now.  I remember the fear and pain that must have come for those who lost everything; think of it, they lost everything.  

But even in that place of nothingness, even in the times of hopelessness and suffering, we can still sort through the shattered fragments of our broken lives and try to pick up the pieces.  If they stay prostrate on the ground, there is no chance to rebuild.  But if we have the strength and courage to pick up the crumbling chunks, gather the loosed ends, and tie them ramshackle back together, there is hope to rebuild. 

Let's sort through broken pieces

And stumble thick in dust. 

Rake the dirt with fingers

Through, soil, death and rust.

Keep on searching, loved one.

Never give up hope

The thinest thread is one that binds

The pieces into rope.

Sort through shattered fragments

Comb through dirt and pain

Gather all the silver shards

That glitter like the rain.

Glue them back together

With the bonding kiss of hope

Sort through shattered pieces

Bind them as a rope. 

...Let's sort through broken pieces...