Carolyn's Storytelling and Poetry

Children's Books, Poetry and Prose

Winter Storm

Storm Gray

the color of cloud and wave

as twilight enters

into a newness of storm

the darkness is driven

by sky-white birds

their feathers turning purple

in the waning light

clouds take on sharp edges

pulling rogue waves

up to join them

until foam becomes cloud,

clouds fall into sea foam

 

I wait, barefoot and cold

peering into the neutral light

for Venus,

holding her savage court

beneath a coy, half-shell smile...

Passion's Envy

"Passion's envy, what a name for a girl!"

the old woman smirked to her husband

eyeing the young blonde dancer

the way a tabby eyes a carp

the blonde danced

flinging miracles of movement

out to the waiting audience

her steps exact and intricate

her body a fluid mixture of music

and smoke

rising from steamy broadside lights

wrapping the dancer in color

her hair

became tinseled in silver

her eyes

grey oracles

"I think it's a good name"

her  husband answers

viewing his last glimpse of passion

with January eyes.

 

Snake

The sheets lay coiled

like a frightened snake

she tossed the eggs in the skillet

the heat

reminded her of last night's unfinished date

cut short by too much laughter

at his embarrassing remarks

too much liquor

to ease the disquiet

and not enough of anything

after their lovemaking

that was her word

she didn't like his

His words

his touch

his breath of sour stomach

dressed as wine

She heard the bedroom door open

flipped the eggs

then returned them to the fire

deciding all at once

to let them burn.

 

 

Floral Conversation

I seed the truth

with little flowers

each bloom

adds a dash of color

to the perspective

from which I speak

But

through the years

each of my words

have slowly become suspect

Perhaps from too many stray seedlings

of exaggeration or humor

and so,

I have learned

to only speak in flowers

to my friends.

 

Stonehenge Winter

The sky walks between stones

Winter adds its own silence

to the heavy shapes outlining dusk

they are engaged in passive resistance

as snow buries itself

between cracks

along edges

around bases

Inside the ring of stones

too cold for weeping

spirits gather

a late night celebration

on ground newly hallowed

from the silvered touch

of Lady Solstice

Gentle hand.