A Distant Place

A Distant Place

Janelle Spiers

I looked in the mirror

And I saw a face;

A phantom vision,

In a distant place.

The figure contorted

And I reached out my hand.

I tried to touch it,

But I had no command.

The face was silent,

It stared like a star.

It was then that I realized

It was myself, from afar.

I looked in the mirror

At my strange unknown face

And wondered what happened

In that distant place.

Where was I now?

I wondered aloud,

When a dark veil unfolded

And all was a shroud.

I felt a tug

And a terrible pain.

The shroud was burning 

Like a flaming rain.

As the curtain lifted

And the smoke withdrew

I saw smoldering ash,

And it was then that I knew.

I stood behind the mirror

As my reflection died.

I lived now in a foreign world;

I bent my head and cried.

A brilliant light shone through the dust

And dried my weeping eyes.

A voice like thunder called to me,

And I began to rise.

As my body floated,

I saw a great face.

I was behind the mirror

In a distant place.

An Empty Shell

An Empty Shell

Janelle Spiers

Once upon a time, a man named Kenneth Bogue was born.  He grew up to be a fine knight, brave and courageous, witty and sharp.  He waltzed right into the heart of a woman named Alma, and they married, and had two sons.  His life continued steadily forward, a man of upright intent, and noble heart.  His sword of truth was ever by his side, and so too his fair maiden.  

Days turned into years, and as they flew by, Kenneth's sons found beautiful girls, and took them to their distant homes to become their brides.  Life continued for the knight, and his days were ever blessed by the King whom he served.  He was a man of integrity, and faithfulness.

Years became decades, and as grandchildren and great-grandchildren came to visit the brave knight, his years had began to grow long.  He had had many a great victory in his day, and his maiden was always with him. 

But all things must come to an end, and even life itself must take turns with death.  The valiant knight fell ill, and no amount of fighting could save him.  He lost the battle...on this earth.  But his spirit and renewed body has risen again to live with the King he had long loved so faithfully.  His maiden wept at his side, but is was an empty shell, with nothing but skin and bones left of him.  His children crowded round his side, and all the men and women he had blessed paid homage to their beloved knight.  They loved him, and never forgot him.

I loved him, and will never forget him. 

Goodbye, Pa.

What Is Red?

What is Red?

Written by Janelle Spiers

Inspired by Mary O'Neill

Red is a candle

Glowing softly with light

A warm, dancing figure;

Flame in flight.

Red is a high-flying kite.

Red is love,

Passionate and romantic.

Red is a rose

Red is a dream,

A hat, a feather,

A chilling scream.

The sound of red is

“Beat! Beat! Beat!”

An infant heart

So faint and sweet.

Red is death –

A bleeding heart,

That starts to tear

Loved ones apart.

Red are rubies

And ripe strawberries,

Apples, tomatoes, and cherries.

Red is emotion

Tender and true

A happy ending

Given to few.

Red is a racecar

And a plastic cup

Red is a game

Don’t give up.

Red is life

Frail crying at birth

Full, well-lived days

Laid back in the earth.

Think of embraces

And wounds that have bled

Nail polish, late sunsets

If they couldn’t glimmer with

Red…