Category Archives: Writing > Poetry > 2006

Will­abee wal­labee whey,
Trey went to a grave­yard to play,
Amidst grave­stones so grand
With a cam­era in hand,
Till some zom­bies hauled him away.

A world of mys­tery for the sis­ters at heart,
Echoed through his­to­ry and whis­pered inside
(Tell me how many of us have awakened,
Tell me how many of our paths have been changed.)

Some of us walk free with friends by our sides
Nev­er let­ting the warmth of com­fort pass by
Some of us walk alone fac­ing pain in long lives
With the bare rock of remem­brance to stur­dy our call
And but one small idea that would bring us this far
(You’ve come this far)
So why not see more?
So why not go further?
We do not fol­low, dear hearts — we lead,
And we are what we are.
See us and love us, or cast us away,
Through all our tomor­rows we shall soar,

I am for­ev­er free,
And for­ev­er me.

Curled, at a sigh­ing peace
In a black and white ball,
At rest, her soul in silent flight
Car­ries strings of stars aloft.

But she notices not the Earth, or
What sur­rounds her fluffy form,
For she has all the warmth
And com­fort she will need.

A fam­i­ly full of love is
Wait­ing for her this morning…
For a play­ful knock on a door
And a sharp mew for a snuggle.

When morn­ing comes in fiery wonder,
She calls through the tan­ger­ine wind –
“I am with you, friend, always,”
Purring in wild delight.

The finest fire
I’d ever made
Was tonight a pyre
For the sending-off

It hap­pened with­out rhyme or cause –
Sweet obsid­i­an-eyed creature,
Snow-white coat and soft­est paws

Then the ruin of harms unknown,
And its own­er final­ly com­ing forth,
But too late alas,
For I can bring no life to the dying.

Fate steels me to watch, kiss and cuddle
As his soft breath of life departs

The young man who owned him did not understand …
He’d been through too many win­ters in just twelve,
Our world’s bosom had been naught there but cold,
And tonight more ice grows deep in that heart.

Will he e’er understand … ?

To avail the helplessness
To cleanse this guilt
[For I feel tru­ly helpless]

This pyre is my gift to you, innocent:
So hot it burns that noth­ing is left;
The per­fec­tion of my aged craft
Lives as your per­fect final flight,

For after all that has happened,
This is what I know to be right.

Young man, seek your solace
For I can only lend hope,
In the knowl­edge that your friend
Is now safe from all pain

He will dance and spin, gleam and jig
Among shim­mer­ing starfields in gold­en joy

And per­haps his spir­it returns to watch,
Or per­haps he returns from whence he came
To dance in the starfields
And blaze a trail.

Fire, your wings work great deeds tonight.

Twelve feet high in fury-wrought plumes,
You sig­nal all the night to our friend’s return
With a flash of the earth no one will forget.

We release this body to flight
In the clar­i­on-call of sparks.

Embers, car­ry my last whispers,
As the dis­mal evening dies,
Of a friend who we loved
With kind wish­es on high.