The Visit… a seasonal poem

That time around midnight

When the air hangs as cold and as still as death itself.

When the earth sleeps

And only the creatures of the night are out foraging for food.

That was the time

When I saw her.

I had popped out to empty the rubbish.

I had my eyes half screwed up and was hunched because of the cold.

I didn’t notice anyone there at first.

The shadows;

They always seem to come alive at that time of night.

Yet I caught a faint flicker,

A kind of glimmer in the darkness.

Assuming it was light escaping from my half open kitchen door,

I made my way around the side of the house to the bin.

As I came back to the garden I heard a faint sound,

A beating of wings,

Then silence.

Something, I don’t know, made me look up and walk towards the pond.

It was then,

Then I saw her.

She was sitting on the rockery beside the overgrown heather,

Unaware I was watching,

Staring, utterly enthralled at the snowdrops.

I think she had never seen anything so beautiful,

But then neither had I watching her.

I could hardly dare to breathe lest my breath should give my game away.

Her delicate silvery hand stretched out to tenderly pluck a bloom.

I was unsure whether to move forward or back or just stay there.

Then in that instant,

In that very instant she saw me.

A moment transfixed in time

Lasting an eternity;

Yet in reality a split of a second.

Her eyes pierced mine

And I felt her soul and mine beat as one.

Recognition.

And in that very moment I knew I would never ever see her again.

It was as if she realised then, that she shouldn’t have been here.

Shouldn’t have been seen.

She gave me one last haunting glance

And with a gentle beat of her translucent wings silently faded into another realm.

 

The air was colder

And stiller than ever before.

A dark void was all that was left.

I walked over to the pond,

There on the ground were the snowdrops,

Strewn as she had left them

In her haste to depart.

I bent over and gently picked them up,

Caressing them against my cheek as I walked back to the house.

 

A lone tear dropped on to the perfect white petals.

I shut the door as I went inside,

Suddenly shivering.

 

Then started looking for a tiny vase.

 

fairy

 

Written 17th February 2003

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

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In a world gone mad….

In a world gone mad
Only the truth remains
In a world gone mad
Only truth is a constant
In a world of turning tides
Only the truth will save
In a world on a cusp
Let truth be a guide
In a world of illusion
Dont blink – just see
In a world of falsehood
Take not the lies for granted
In a world of lies
Truth is the freedom
See through the veil
Ignore the false trails,
The false flags,
The false justices and the false politicians
See the enemy within
Do not be fooled
By those who wish you well
Life is not as portrayed
And never has been
Wake up and smell the roses
For they fade in a blink of an eye
Into the mirror of the great illusion
Where reigns the truth
In a world gone mad
See what is
See the truth as it is
Look beyond the horizons
Of limited reach
For in the end
The truth is the key
Is the reality to all that ever was
Or is, or yet to be…..

 

dsc06318-1

 

A Tale of Midsummer

Upon the crossroads; sparkling bright with pale moonlight time stands still

And the past is just a memory fading from view.

The witches of old tis said, merry met with the very devil himself,

Before he journeyed out in his chariot over the moon-bright fields.

The hounds of hell with red eyes shinning crossed over to the Otherworld here

And the longest day just goes on and on and on and the very sun itself is caught in a bright web of liminal space.

It is here sweet love I wait for thee, underneath the Ladies summer perfumed tree.

It is here at midnight I wait as the moon casts a shard of light to pierce my soul.

It is here I will wait and cast my spell in words of ancient tongue.

Here where only the convergence of the tides of time can enchant you to fall under my spell.

I hold my dagger to my heart, my hands steady, words flowing in this ancient tongue I know so well.

My sweet life force I offer thee as a token,

Will you accept?

Sweet force of power that you are, will you come?

Will you meet me upon this midsummer night?

In the distance two dancing hares, two moonlight sprites in the ripening fields.

The energies of the night are entering this realm, slipping through the veil of reality,

I see them, but will you come also?

My blood slowly drips upon the ground as I chant my words.

I light a single candle and offer my precious ruby gift to the flame, gently anointing my forehead.

I become the very gift you need but still will you come?

Will you require more?

What will it take on this midsummer night?

Oh sweet moon of mine, shineth down not upon my soul lest you see me laid bare

Revealed in moonlight upon the shores of time for whom and what I truly am;

Not mortal.

I crave my kin.

Come through the veil sweet love; sweet immortal darkling.

Cast your dark shadow upon my heart;

Leave me not abandoned and alone.

Still my blood drips upon the earth as the crossroads merge into my very being.

As the land becomes the sky

And time stands still

And the still is all.

As the past and future entwine together

I am a part of it as are you

And finally my eyes are clear.

My love I yearn to kiss thine lips upon the delicate rim of midnight

I die a thousand deaths yet live a thousand lifetimes waiting.

Yet you come not

I en-cradle the sweet dark flame of eternity that is forever you

To return next year

Or never….

 

Archangel_Raphael a

moonwillow July 2015

A Selection from NaPoWriMo

A selection of the month’s creative and earnest writings, making a connection to all the wonderful poets whom i share my creativity with…

April 30th

So thus shall i depart
From the challenge poetic
Dear friends and true
Let me bid you adieu

April 29th

I remember intricate ice patterns on the freezing cold window panes
I remember cold breath that froze instantly in the air in the bedroom
And slipping bravely between icy cold sheets that took my breath away
I remember laying in bed so ill for two weeks and writing my first poem
I remember feeling different and not wanting to be one of the crowd
And of escaping into my own world where books and art were all I needed
I remember always loving animals and the natural world
I remember long days spent exploring fen droves and rolling in haystacks
And fishing for stickle backs in steep banked ditches that no longer exist
I remember my pale blue bike and how we travelled around the fen lanes together
I remember the day of the gigantic white water spout over Ely
And how we all stopped and stared in amazement not knowing what it was
I remember rummaging for hours on end in the stationary and book shop
I remember the magic on every shelf as I discovered each treasure that revealed itself before me
And in the magic of my wonder I was suspended, floating in a spell of timelessness
I remember the harsh control at home; of being shouted at; just too scared to breath
I remember a sterile, aggressive environment and of just wanting to be me; to be seen
I remember vowing forever to break this curse for ever…..

April 28th

A drop of pure love
Is all it takes to blossom
Yet true love blooms rare

April 27th

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Upon a lost love gone for years; upon a life lost too
Why so young was angel taken?
Why so young was life forsaken?
Suddenly snatched from mortal realm
With ne’re a chance to say goodbye
With ne’re a chance to wipe my tear
That fell upon my cheek so soft
And so I pondered long and lonely, feeling weary seeking solace
To quest his long lost resting place
A place I knew ere in my dreams
For never in my waking hours his tomb would come to me
That churchyard old and dark I saw
In daytime nothing stirred at all
Why in my dreams and not on earth
I pleaded every night whilst there
In dreams of night his name I call
Through deaths dark door he whispers mine
I wander long, alone and teary, vainly searching, vainly seeking
For that which I am so unsure
A tomb maybe, a gravestone marked; a spot upon some barren ground?
In death and dreams he calls me home
My name he calls upon the winds
In waking hours my torment thrives upon my wretched life
My dreams are that which take my soul
To pleasures black tormented realm
Oh death, oh lover why taunt me so?
I beg you leave my dreams
Yet take me home to be with thee
For in this world I can not live
Yet can not die in yours
Sweet freedom free me from this curse
Of searching lost and lonely
For a love lost in the realms of men
In my dreams his tomb I find
In churchyard dark and dreary
And so upon a midnight weary I wander in that graveyard dreary
In deaths dark realm for evermore…..

(inspired again by The Raven)

April 26th

Some days words don’t come
Some days words beget darkness
Some days words just kill

April 25th

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Listening to an old scratched record playing tunes of old for me
Rock and Roll will never die; will live inside my soul; my soul for evermore
The heartbeat of my life and times; the music score of life
Every action a tune within; every thought a beat
Every dream a soundtrack written, a melody of life
Time and tide will march to music; all life’s a tune for evermore and more
My backing track of daily actions, my score of hopes and dreams
And so I ponder on the music; sweet harmonies that shape my life
Midnight weary, not midnight dreary as I crank it up once more
People come and people go, a very fact of life
But tunes endure and shape our world; I know that fact for sure
That old scratched vinyl forever playing will leave me nevermore

(thanks to EAP and his wonderful Raven)

April 24th

Words from a past life
Enter my deamtime to mock
Silent tears at dawn

April 23rd

Inspiration arrives upon the dark wings of night
Stretching forth into endless blackness
Where only the soul survives
Yet upon these dark wings of night
Dawn’s bright hour comes upon a stillness
A stillness of soul that can only be answered by the heart
It is of a rustling of leaves upon a still summer’s day
The tinkling of water in an ancient hidden meadow
It is the call of the wild within us all
The stag, the deer, the fox
Yet it is of a falling backwards into dreams
Back to the Old Ones
Who knew how to fly
Those who have taught you
Yet you knew it not
Dark and as dangerous as falling
Eyes wide shut from the cliff edge
It is of a spreading of wings
Of a inner knowing that you can fly
It is of faith, of hope, of trust
Hold the darkness by the silken thread of life
Grasp the soft black velvet of night
And fall into sweet unsuffocating slumbers
Where dream become reality
And futures are forged in the fires of returning souls
Be unbound
Be you
Be free
Be the star
And the sun
And the moon
Be all and more
Sink then into the dark night of the soul
Become the night wings of inspiration
And know it to be your time

Dark Angel

 April 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016: Week Two

Into week two of this years challenge and finding this a very enjoyable experience; i am in some cases now following the promts as given on the NaPoWriMo website; but if not following as such then finding inspiration in them. There are lots of other wonderfull poetry to be found on the website below, along with numerous poetry writing tips and prompts:

http://www.napowrimo.net/about/

 

DAY EIGHT

It lay in my bloodied hand
The rose cut fresh
Slicing flesh

Velvet red and sensual
Deep scarlet blooms
Hiding the thorns

Blooms where yesterday
Tightly wrapped buds
Sought the sun

And tomorrow petals
Fall dead
Upon sacred ground

I remembered the kiss
That cursed
At dusk

I remember his perfume
I brush my face
With the scarlet

Hidden thorns strike
Brushing my lips
With blood

Memories bloom in shadow
Curses never leave
Unlike the crumpled rose

 

DAY NINE

I stole just one kiss
A dark kiss not mine to steal
Dam it was so good

 

DAY TEN

Running and running yet somehow not getting anywhere
I may be dreaming I thought; this is not real
How can it be and how did I get here?
And the ‘English Place Name’s I encountered
As I ran by seemed just so surreal; unreal
I was on a quest; that much I knew
Seeking ‘The Keys of Enoch’
But only ‘The Goddess of The Labyrinth’ could help me find them
Where was she?
So in I tumbled head-long into the labyrinth
In a rather Alice-like fashion
Yet not a white rabbit in sight
Just old tales, old myths that wove in and out of my mind
On a repeat loop within my head
Chivalry and Knights, of deeds fought and won
Of mystery and magic
Jousting for the hand of a mythical princess
‘The Legends of King Arthur and his Knights’
Spiralled in and out of my brain as I sought the centre
‘The Hero Myths and Legends of the British Isles’ were birthed at The centre of this labyrinth or so the story goes
But how would I get there to find that elusive key?
Or would it simply take ‘The Thousand and One Night’
That I was told it would
But suddenly I was whisked off my feet Dorothy-fashion
By a spiraling storm that plucked me from the centre of the Labyrinth just as I reached it
I held on in the storm as dark winds roared around me
And rain beat down upon my head
And then it stopped, ceased, silence
And I found myself in front of the fallen angel
In ‘Rosslyn and The Western Mystery Tradition’
Home again where I belonged
With heart and soul combined as one

 

DAY ELEVEN

Golden childhood days innocently spent on timeless Norfolk beaches
Sun shining twenty four seven or so it seemed looking back
The long endless summer days where dreams and adventures came to life
And everyday normal life came to a standstill
Summer by the sea yet only two weeks out of real time
But two weeks when time and tide ceased to exist
Bright coloured buckets and spades were all we needed
And an enthusiastic dad who knew all the castle building tricks
For our constructions were always the biggest and most complicated with the longest and deepest moat
Fed by sea water as we held our breath at each approaching wave
We took it seriously and made fantasy worlds amongst the sands
Where princesses, dragons and wizards peopled our minature worlds
At night we donned huge black rubber inner tubes to float dream-like on the warm whispering salty waves
Then kicked for life and for the shore when the sea floor sank away
Fun fairs and penny arcades were an evening delight
Donned in pretty cotton dresses, frilly petticoats and clean white socks
A far cry from the day attire of elasticated swim suits clogged with wet sand
And ninety nines were the latest craze then
So devour them we did
The skies were ever blue, the sand always warm, our hair and toes always full of this damp gritty delight
We ceased to dream for we knew we had it all…
A dark vibe gathered over Europe

 

Day Twelve

Silk sheets and whispers

Passion flowing; fires building

Come the dawn; silence

 

Day Thirteen

Giving love to one
Forever in Shadow Land
Spirit tests the Soul

 

Day Fourteen

If I close my eyes tight and try not to cry
I can still see the blue waves on the shore
Washing over the magic circle inscribed
Upon the wet sand
Four poems you said
That was all it would take
A poem for each corner of the world

 

But the blue waves upon the shore
Seemed to pierce my heart
Breaking through the magic circle
I had cast tight around myself
A circle of hope
A circle of four poems
Squaring my circle

 

You were of this world you said
Yet I always saw your other worldy aura
The magic circle that surrounded you
With blue waves on the shore line; pulsating
I gave my heart
With four poems
But they took you home…..

 

 

 

Angel 2

 

Love Desired

…and so for thee my offering for National Poetry Writing Day 2106

The path we live and the path we love
Will lead us down roads that wind and trick
The path we live and the path we love
Will lead us through forests so dark and so thick

A winding path; a challenging path
With everyday a purpose anew
Evolve or die, rise up to the day
Greet every challenge that comes your way

Destiny knows your very fate
And can spin the wheel at will
But those in the know can take control
Can spin their wheel with their own ‘witches will’

The trick of life is to turn the wheel
To turn it as fast as you will
For time and tide will thus reveal all
When the winds whisper sweet words on destiny’s hill

So the path we live and the path we love
Can lead us down trickster roads to the stars
But the path we live and the path we love
If quested, will carry us home to Love desired

 

Knight and damsel

 

March 2016: National Poetry Writing Day

More of my poetry here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Crooked-Paths-Janis-Ford/dp/1519250290/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1457085574&sr=1-3&keywords=janis+ford

The Kiss….

Cursed by a kiss
From centuries gone.
Touched by the hand of love alone.
Holding the rose
So red and so soft,
Clutching at life so wantonly lost.
So fragile the rose
In the hands of the doomed.

So swift the kiss
Smearing the lips.
Fleeting the words
From the bloodstained tongue.

Adrenalin rush
Humanity shattered
I gave
You took
That’s all that matters.

 

Fall back

August 2011

“Whats love got to do with it?”

Dancing with the Hare

(Created at the wonderful Allographic Workshop in Cambridge from suggested words and phrases birthed from the suggested word of ‘Lunatic’) 

 

Hidden in the shadow, with her soul out of sync

And not of the world; she was dancing with the hare.

Was it the madness of the moon cycles

Or simply the moon wisdom;

Her hidden wisdom

That had bought her here?

Crazy?

Yes certainly.

Her search for stability?

Yes.

The ways of the dark called;

She knew she was not of the sun.

Oh how crazy she thought,

Crazy but right.

She knew the ways of the blood,

Acknowledged them,

Danced to the monthly cycle.

The lunar activity

Growing, stronger,

No longer out of sync,

No longer not of the world.

But in the darkness

With her hidden soul alive

She was dancing with the hare eternally

Claiming their own...

January 2016

TIME AND ILLUSION

Still on the subject of ‘time’ which seems very appropriate in the moments we are living through and how events are currently playing out on our world

  

Suspended in the illusion of Time.

Future and past tightly woven as one into the tapestry of destiny.

Ancient tales from the scrolls of life etched onto reality,

Manifesting into dreams and desires that were once only that.

Time lines changed by those who weave the web.

But tell me, was it woven from the inner realms of my subconscious?

Or do the starlight worlds pull silken threads tight around my soul?

Tightening still as known worlds fade to grey, disappearing before heart and eyes wide open.

The Roaring Lion goes unheard as amber sunlight reveals the Serpent Path

And the Howling Wolf casts shadows of silver and blood upon my life.

I reach and grasp the thread, allowing the tide of destiny to flow within my heart.

The night sky becomes an open book for this eager clay born infant.

The words have always been written, yet read by few.

Only now can I even begin to read between the lines.

Yet who are we?

Us who hide inside this human form and dare to sip the Cup of Life, innocently unaware that it is we who are the Key?

That which is sought.

When Time unfolds, our future surely was always written by the Star of Insight and our paths already sacrificially trod by Messengers of the past.

Past and future only now become one and the unseen becomes the seen to those of The Way.

Universal Energies

 

 

 

 

NaPoWriMo: Week no 4 of the Poetry Writing Challenge for April

 

 

 

 

The Watchers

We have always been here

Have always wandered the earth

Undetected

Some say we exist only in folklore

And we will not argue with that

Tis our safety net

Through the centuries we have watched you

Watched you as you tore yourselves apart

We saw you destroy yourselves

And your planet

But we always loved you

Loved our creations

But we had to let you be

Let you grow

And make your own mistakes

Our children

Naughty children

Every so often

Some of you would grow

Evolve

Rise above the rest

So we took you back

Claimed you as our own once more

Allowing you

Over time to become one of us again

And thus the cycle began again

The Watchers watching over the earth

Just as it always was

Just as it always is

And just as it always will be

We are here watching

Guarding

Over the affairs of men

You know us not

We know you well….

April 30th

 

 

Poet?

Am I a fake when I say I am a poet?

Writing poetry for nigh on 50 years;

Give or take.

So why that novice feeling?

I try and learn my craft

Yet my peers seem so assured and confident

Causing me to trip and fall down that clichéd rabbit hole.

Falling and fake

I am tiny and unseen.

I sip the glass of terror

That hides the secret potion

And shrink Alice-like

Wanting to hide in my own Wonderland.

Yet here I am reading aloud

To a sea of smiling, friendly faces

Greeting me behind Chesire cat-like smiles

I see no bodies, just huge, smiling grins.

What lies behind those smiles I wonder?

If Alice can do it – so can I

I will grow and grow and face the fears inside my head

And make the mad hatter brew me strong back coffee.

Away with his insipid tea!

So then here’s a start; my start

I take my stand

Yes god dam it

I am a poet!

April 29th

 

 

 Free Flying

Floating like a minute speck of dust in a universe of eternity

I suddenly realise how unimportant and tiny I am.

In a vast sea of time that is no time at all,

It just is what it is.

Here on earth life is so fleeting,

I am so fleeting and so transient.

I am the smallest speck in the blink of a vast universal eye.

My human ego wants me to be more,

Yearns to be more.

My journey is just beginning;

Can this be acknowledged I wonder?

By those who ‘see and observe’?

Can I go on?

Can I fully grow outside of the confounds of earthly time?

Do I need to be corporeal to exist?

Do I need to be corporeal to be me?

My thoughts float upon the shore of time;

They float up and away into the deep, deep darkness beyond our Star.

Me in spirit robes.

If I send my thoughts out

Far and wide to anywhere where I choose

Is that me in spirit form?

Can I fly forever free

Or am I always bound by the golden cord that binds?

Who is the real me,

The one within

Or the one without?

I send my thoughts out far and wide

Upon the butterfly wings of cause and effect.

In time I may truly follow

Or maybe in reality I am already in that other world of wonder

Where time, movement and matter do not exist.

Maybe I do fly free

And I always have done

And this reality I know as life

Is me within the world of matter

Taking  a vacation from who I really am.

28th April

 

 

Screaming and Dreaming

There are those times in life when you wonder about life

Those days when there are many more downs than ups

Those days when the needs of others outweigh ones own

Today is one such day

And all one wants is a cuddle

But one keeps silent and maybe a poem or two can do the trick

Can come to ones rescue and let the silent scream escape

To travel upon the winds of the universe

To maybe hitch a ride on the back of a passing angel

On his way to paradise

April 27th

 

 

For all the Animals Trapped…

Think about all the helpless animals crying in the laboratories

Think about their suffering; so many of them die a death of utter pain

For the testing is all useless; the experiments don’t work

They are them; they are not us, their bodies are so different

Their bodies, their systems, do not work like ours

But the Home Office, in its unwisdom degrees this to go on

All this torture, all this blood and all this death

Many other ways of research can now be utilised

Ways of testing all the drugs upon this earth

No longer do we need the cages; the innocents may roam free

All of us are truly beautiful, are gorgeous inside and out

We do not need to torture others to establish this true fact

For beauty comes from deep within, from the centre of our souls

The power to change, the power to love is right within our hands

Medicine has come so far with human tissue cultivated

To be used for us, instead of them, instead of all the torture

In freeing them, we free ourselves to walk as one together

No other species, only human does all this harm to others

Where is the right, where is the Order that we can do all this?

Who gave us all this misplaced power to justify our acts on others?

Be brave, be strong and take a stand; shout the message loud and clear

Love and Light is all we need so set all creatures free.

In future days, in future times; if we ever get to that

What will be the legacy we leave upon these pastures green?

In future times in future worlds the truth it will be told

What is our chapter in the book – it does not look good to me.

Is it too late to change the ways of a species gone to waste?

Who knows – not I, but I live in truth of my own personal philosophy

To spread the word, to heal the hate, to set all creatures free

To live a life of pure intent; to be the best that I can be

For to spill the blood of innocents is not my game and will never, ever be.

April 26th

 

 

Her Spring Gown

Cambridge put on her best spring outfit today

And looked resplendent

A fascinator of fluffy white clouds adorned her hair

Pink blossoms and white draped over her shoulders

Gently cascading to the ground in the gentle breeze

Every footstep lushly echoed the vibrant green

And green velvet moss became each footfall

I wandered in wonder

Opening up my heart

Following her every footstep

I was becoming me again

Floating without care upon a pure blue sky

I was the dancing blossoms in the warm air

Finding me

Finding my song

I was Cambridge in the spring today

And felt resplendent

April 25th

 

 Beauty Deep and Light

Peering out long into the void

Reveals that there is no void

On the outside

 

For the outside is magic

Is beautiful, unending

And stupendous

 

Deep into the darkness

On the out side

Is where the magic and mystery lie

 

It is where the unending truth resides

And where the search for truths begins

It is the quest we long for

 

It is the yearning of the soul

On the darkest night

Calling all home

 

For those who seek the Light

May cross the void

So the void is no more

 

We are starlight and endless

We are above and beyond

All that is know

 

We can go on and on

Until the world is just a speck

A tear in the eye of the multi-verse

 

No the void is not out there

For it is bound by blood

It is the darkness deep within the flesh

April 24th

 

For all the animals...
For all the animals…