Ravished lady, sitting there,
with night's dark coals you flash and flare,
your voice rings sharp in reader's souls
from memories who's thoughts you hold,
twisting, weaving, shooting wide,
turning stunned minds outside in,
thrilled by words we hush ourselves
and savor nuance, space and time.
Ravished lady, typing there,
each stroke of keyboard sends out sparks,
they clang and clash and rush sublime,
unsettled by time's life-design.
Ravished lady, dreaming there,
you sweep all up without a care
and ride our souls to acme high,
to reave us with estatic sighs.
Erin Moen
10/8/02
To Gilly-Woman's Chime
There dreams a lovely woman who
feels a need to know the why's
and understand the thoughts of
lives and get into the minds she sees,
carefully sifting through debris, and
cradling the worth she finds.
There loves a dreamy woman who
feels the length of rapid chime, and
writes in quickly shortened time
her ways and means of life,
while flourishing her wit at will
and cherishing the words.
And so this lady dreams and
loves and shares her spirit's soft
fierceness, showing friends her
touching side, she yearns for muse
only to find,
it was her shadow all along.
Erin Moen
10/8/02
Deb actually got two, I was trying to cheer her up that night!
Lavendar Girl-for Deb
Lavendar girl
who's feeling a'grump
I'll send you my smile
if you pour me a cup
of your special tea
with only one lump
to sweeten our night
and help give us a jump
on morrow's new day
with all it's speed bumps.
Lavendar girl
with garden divine
lends us her strength
when we feel resigned
wonderful soul
of shortbread design
here's to your sweet words
that taste of rose wine.
Lavendar girl
vining light you do shine.
Erin :)
Colored Thoughts
A brush of dancing color 'wares
dimmed soul's cries into the gloom,
shining spirit stops her path
and shares her thoughts with me.
"Humanness has mighty weight
to press upon your "self",
but you have worth,
you are alive, see here I am,
to let you know this truth".
Warmth spreads to me,
unchills my heart,
and helps to ease my mind.
Spirit tarries yet to talk to me,
assuring me all's right,
artist's colors beset my life,
I find hope can soar again.
Erin Moen
10/8/02
And, most significently, my friend, Jenn, The Ravyn of my spirit. Who ripped me apart, and threaded me back together, without knowing it.
Black Bird...Fly
I met a black bird one dawning day.
She was bleeding, her plumage
in tatters. Her eyes, oh, god,
her eyes had seen so much,
they were dulled, though not blind,
defaced by embittered kind.
I read this black bird’s shocking story,
and I cried, openly wept,
offered my salted saddened thoughts,
hoping to repay, somehow, humanity’s debt,
what others had ripped from her, without respect.
Her innocence and trust
I could not find, for they had died.
Fledged by despair, wrapped in acid thorns,
she tore herself open, poured her blood
into my heart. I was shaken.
Her agony became a weighty gift.
I felt bitterly blessed, painfully spliced.
She unknowingly changed my life, that night,
as I experienced her crippled mind.
I held the black bird to my light,
whispering love to calm her fright.
I wanted her to see her beauty,
with untainted sight. She sighed
as she explained to me what would not be.
I crawled within her dark black wings,
swept her close, and hopelessly grieved.
I heard my black bird sing her dirge,
slicing winds with tormented words,
her memoried eyes glittered with tears,
her spirit bleak with horrible fears,
yet, she shined so bright. I promised her
I would continually reach for skies
she could no longer see. And I wept.
She hadn’t told me she was going to die.
Erin Moen
2/28/04
© Copyright
All honored in my soul and heart. All in my words.
Goodness, Tom, what sweet words... You overwhelm me.