War Poems III Just anything to eat

No food, no food,
So hungry, mother.
I know, I know
I’m sorry dear.

Let’s travel down the road
Which road, which road
It’s crumbling, crumbling
Into no man’s land.

What’s no man’s land
What is it father
Where does it lead
This crumbling street

No street, no road
It doesn’t lead to any man
To anyone with any food,
With any work, not anything.

Just anything would do,
I know, just any work,
Just anything to eat,
Just any man, on any street.

On any road
That leads to anything
That leads to any land
Where I can eat.

© jsmorgane (Jan 10) from “War Poems”

friends through distance

 

Every time I see you I become less honest.

With so much life between one visit and the next,

Had I not rather flatter, than fluster you with candour?

No, I refuse.

I go for less polite and slightly grating,

And speak my mind uncensored, as before.

More to the point than pleasantries.

So when I see you next and say

“What awful perfume!” and

“What dreadful hair!” you understand

I mean to say

I love you still.

© jsmorgane (April 09)

Owl Mistress

From the greenwood hear the hooting,
From its mistress’ steady shoulders
The wise bird is softly calling.

Light is falling through the foliage,
Charming the woman’s marble skin,
In her amber pendant dancing,
On her owlet’s feathers gleaming.

The lady harkens to the forest,
Hearing the trees calmly breathing,
Then discerns a distant footfall,
And the wind takes up
Her call of welcome,
Friend.

© jsmorgane (May 2010)