Wistful and wishful
what more can I give:
a ladder to reach
and a screen to sieve
Then twine your fingers
through a meteor tail
and whatever lingers
collect in your pale
palms and drop through
your colander,
gather what’s true.
That's my advice
for as long as you live.
That's my advice
for as long as you live.
Wistful and wishful
what more can I give?
Over in the Imaginary Garden we have been asked to write about fairy tales or with a "wishful" quality these stories often have. The first poem is one I wrote today, and the second is several years old, but fits the prompt so well I couldn't resist adding it here. The image is from what I believe is an open source, article.wn.com. If you know this to be incorrect please contact me via email and I will remove it.
Bedtime Stories
Somewhere out in Nowhere
Land a songbird waits for me,
and sings of things that never were, and that will never be.
I’m smitten with the music that he warbles sweet and clear.
He’s in the treetops high above, and yet he sounds so near;
and if I close my eyes and rest
I feel wings flutter in my chest
and magic places far away in space and time seem near,
like they’re more real than my home, and what’s around me here.
Princes bright and dragons bold fight battles round my bed,
and giant ogres want to grind my bones to make their bread.
Witches cackle, donkeys bray and cats wear leather boots,
Children run through forests, and play tunes on magic flutes.
Then knights and trolls and goats come out to skip across the floor,
and Irish women selling clams clap hands and call for more.
So bears and pigs and wolves join paws and dance ‘round in a ring,
and mermaids swim up to the shore to hear the sirens sing.
Old men grow young, and strong and straight,
whilst black birds argue and debate.
And it does not seem strange to me; I do not feel perplexed.
I shake my head and laugh and wait, to see what happens next.
Then the moon smiles down at me and asks me to come swim.
The stars agree. ”The air is fine,” they say, “so come on in.”
I dip my toe into the sky, and it does feel just right
and so I close my eyes and dive head-long in to the night.
and sings of things that never were, and that will never be.
I’m smitten with the music that he warbles sweet and clear.
He’s in the treetops high above, and yet he sounds so near;
and if I close my eyes and rest
I feel wings flutter in my chest
and magic places far away in space and time seem near,
like they’re more real than my home, and what’s around me here.
Princes bright and dragons bold fight battles round my bed,
and giant ogres want to grind my bones to make their bread.
Witches cackle, donkeys bray and cats wear leather boots,
Children run through forests, and play tunes on magic flutes.
Then knights and trolls and goats come out to skip across the floor,
and Irish women selling clams clap hands and call for more.
So bears and pigs and wolves join paws and dance ‘round in a ring,
and mermaids swim up to the shore to hear the sirens sing.
Old men grow young, and strong and straight,
whilst black birds argue and debate.
And it does not seem strange to me; I do not feel perplexed.
I shake my head and laugh and wait, to see what happens next.
Then the moon smiles down at me and asks me to come swim.
The stars agree. ”The air is fine,” they say, “so come on in.”
I dip my toe into the sky, and it does feel just right
and so I close my eyes and dive head-long in to the night.
Charming - both of them.
ReplyDeleteI like both poems!
ReplyDeleteStunning! I love the quality of your poem and the idea of dipping one's toe into the sky~
ReplyDeleteWow
Oh how that second poem makes me smile. I so totally love it!
ReplyDeletesuch beauty and innocent thoughts
ReplyDeleteI love them, Mary. Thoughts of Michael Jackson and of Walt Disney come to mind, except they pale in comparison to these you have recorded, written, here. I've peeked in but never have been.
ReplyDeleteWistful and wishful. Words that sometimes can bring beautiful, playful thoughts if one cares, and is able, to write them down. That's the only way to capture them, you sure can't take a snapshot or record a video. The land of "Nowhere Land " beckons a lot, few will cross over.
..
The second had a children's tale vibe about it, great job indeed
ReplyDeleteWow. I'm still living in thought your last poem, so vivid.
ReplyDeleteI love the idea of advising someone to grab and keep all they can...while not fretting so much over the things that escaped them. Wanting everything and trying to get it can promise a miserable life, methinks.
ReplyDelete"Gather what's true"
ReplyDeletethe best advice of all...love the rest.
love that close ~
ReplyDeleteGreat poem, especially the second one. So midsummer nightish- I could even imagine fairies and pixies inviting me to their dance.
ReplyDeleteTransported me to another world.
Susie