This first one was written when I was 17. This is actually a song. I thought it would make a good walking or traveling song. Perhaps I'll use it one day in my book sometime.)
Throw Me Out and Let Me Go
Throw me out upon the breezes
Let me fly, let me fly
Let me touch the rays of morning in the sky
Let me spread my wings and soar
Up in the sky forever more
Throw me out upon the breeze and let me go
Throw me up upon a horse and
Let me ride, let me ride
Let me take all my adventures in one stride
With a sword girthed at my waist
Let me hold a steady pace
Throw me up upon a horse and let me go
Throw me out unto the river
Let me sail, let me sail
May the breezes always hold a steady gale
To fill the canvas of my craft
And take me down the river’s track
Throw me out unto the river; let me go
Give me one last kiss for parting
Let me leave, let me leave
For if I could not go roaming I would grieve
Adventure’s calling in my wake
And my free heart it’s bound to take
So kiss me once but then I beg you, let me go.
This next one was again written when I was 17. It's the story of the Matchstick girl, for those of you who have at least heard of the story. It's rather sad though, but it's still one of my favorites. I seem to have had a thing for poetry at 17. :)
Ode to the Story of the Matchstick Girl
(young matchstick girl):
When winter’s cold surrounds me in the dark of night
And my eyes are closed to all the frosted stars
I feel not winter’s presence nor his frosted breath
For long gone is my mind and though it’s cold, I’m warm
For I see not the icy limbs of frozen trees
Nor ponds of glass, the water powdered with the snow,
But to the golden summers past. My eyes have turned
From fields of figured glass to glades of greening growth
I feel not the unseen hand of winter’s grip
Come stealthily through my clothes and grip my heart
For I am numb from cold, though warm with summers thought
And feel not when the soul and body part
(man walking by):
A lonely figure on the icy streets of town
A young girl rapped in rags with eyes now ever shut
Yet now she looks so happy in that frozen place
A gentle smile now permanently on her face
What thoughts she had in her last hour to make her smile
Now lie with her and never shall be known
They, her last comfort held upon the brink of death
Had etched a smile upon the lips turned blue with cold
Her innocence, now tattered shreds of memory past
Her lonely figure, peaceful but forlorn
She laid untended in the icy streets of town
For no one living knew, and no one mourned.
Well what do you know? A poem from when I was 16. :) That's the year I started writing Eldrei. lol! It's fun to look back.
News From the Four Winds
I’ve heard the four winds calling
Softly come they to my ears
And I’ve asked them for news
As I stay lonely standing here
What news from you, oh West Wind
As you travel far abroad?
What on your journeys have you learned
While racing sky unshod?
“I have seen the sun go setting
And the silver moon go down;
I’ve watched as all the rivers raced
Beside me on the ground
And I have seen no changes–
Only night and evening’s face.
In past live I beneath a sky
Of time and endless space”
Then will my head turn southward
And the South Wind will I ask!
What news from you, oh South Wind
Do you gather as you pass?
“I fear there’s nothing newer
Than what you before were told
The sky is getting dimmer
And dark shadows yet unfold
No news have I to tell you
O great deeds done in my way…”
Then I shall ask the North Wind
What he’s seen by light of day
Oh North Wind, Mighty North Wind
Tell me what it is you’ve seen.
The south and West have told me naught
With nothing new between.
“Well, I have seen stone fallen
And have watched trees grow old with age
But nothing new have I to tell
Though I be an ancient sage
But if it is the new you seek
Turn east then, my advice is
For she is young, the wind that way
Her news you’ll find suffices”
Oh East Wind, merry East Wind
North Wind says you hold the key
For news is what I’m seeking
And no old will do for me.
I’m searching for a story
What is it you have to tell?
And then I heard the East Wind
And her voice like silver fell.
“Oh I have news for singing
And not old is it, but new
For I have learned from West Wind
That no other kind will do.
So now this news I’ll show you:
It is better in display.
Look to the east, my friend,
And you will see the light of day!”
And so my eyes turned eastward
And no whisper could I find
To describe the lacey patterns
Of this intricate design.
Now stared my eyes in wonder
At the rose and golden hues
And I new that I had finally found
My little piece of news.
Another from when I was 16. I liked poems that discribed nature or that told stories about children playing. I was (and still am) especially fond of Robert Louis Stevenson's "A Child's Garden of Verses".
Dance of the Heavens
It is time the sun sets on the kingdom of earth;
See her silently fold down her bed,
Pulling back quilts made of grass laden sod
And then tucking them under her head.
As she pulls in the last golden locks of her hair
And her gown slips back under the hills,
The Moon and his daughters slip into the night
For a ball decked with silvery frills.
They wear gowns made of silver and silver hair bows
And their shoes are of silver as well,
And their father is dressed in his best silver suite
With glass buttons and one crystal bell.
The Moon has a fiddle all shiny and bright
That he plays with a crystal-glass bow
And he saws on the strings ‘til they all start to sing;
Now up high and now purring down low.
The Star Daughters curtsy and then they all twirl
In a dance for the heavens to see,
All their lights bright reflecting in each little pool
Quite completing the fantastic scene.
But just as the dancers’ excitement is full
And the dance gets more wild to behold,
The first wondrous rays of the morning break through
In the east, turning silver to gold
As the sun pulls her covers back off of her face
And shakes out the gold locks of her hair,
Spreading warmth and bright light over hilltops and trees
And renewing the chilled evening’s air.
The Stars start to fade and their dresses go dim
While the Moon hides away in the hills
Leaving all to the sun who is having much fun
Warming each child’s windowsill.
Last one for tonight. :) I like this one because I wrote it while I was thinking of the play times that my siblings and I had when we were younger. I was once again 17 when I wrote this one. It seems that since I've grown older, I've not written nearly as many poems. *sigh*
Bed Sheet Sails at Dinner Time
O mama, mama where’s the sail?
It’s time to chart my route!
But now I found my bed is stripped:
No sheets to sail me out!
I’m sorry Hun, the sail is gone;
It’d been through muck and mire
So I washed it with the laundry pile
And threw it in the dryer.
Oh mama, mama where’s my ship?
It must have blown to sea!
The current caught it by the dock
And sailed it without me!
Umm… Honey, try the kitchen;
I think you’ll find the answer there
For when I was making dinner, well…
I needed bad a chair.
Oh mama, mama! I need food!
My ship is at the dock.
I need plenty of provisions,
My ship’s larder for to stock.
Now I can help you there, my dear
When ere you’re surly able
Come sail that chair up to my dock;
Your dinners on the table!
And there you go. That's all for tonight; a small peak into my (slightly) younger years. Hope you enjoyed it. :D