Feature - Poem

The Tide

The salty tang of bitter sea

Can fill the air and seems to be

Unfazed by wind, that tries to take

The salty tang, to smugly prove

The sea is naught except a lake.

To show its fault, the sea awakes

It sends a wave, such force it takes

To prove its might cannot be tamed

Unconquered yet, and never will

Submit to force, or be restrained.

The water roars, and crashes hard

Upon the sand and rocks all scarred

From years of force and roaring spray

The water foams, returns to tear

Against the shore with no delay.

And flowing back, it leaves the sand

Then turns and rushes to the land

With stronger waves it roars and hurls

Upon the shore it breaks and foams

With sprays of salt and drops of pearl.

The wind draws back, its pride is spent

And drawing back, it does relent

The ocean won, the ocean proved

It’s not a force to trifle with 

So old and strong it can’t be moved.

The sea continues - smiling, knows

The tide goes on, like clockwork flows

It rises, falls, and rises, then

Again, the water rises, falls -

Continues ever on again

Feature - Poem

Child’s Play

There’s a certain kind of majesty

That is found in a child’s simple game -

First laughing, then bemoaning a travesty -

Anything is possible in imagination's frame.

Kings rise, and kingdoms fall,

Commoners rebel, traitors are slain.

All attend a feast held in a great hall -

Roast swans they eat, and chalices drain.

Gallant knights on dappled horses ride,

To rescue the damsels in distress,

Even as the knight’s services are denied.

The damsels are rescued nonetheless.

A bell summons them to dinner, but they’ll return

To that same game, now tomorrow’s first concern.

Feature - Poem

Evening Walk

Night is falling quietly over the forest, 

Like a small bird on the wing it glides

But silently floats, without a chorus.

Its cloak envelops the trees, and hides

All colour from view, the only shade left

Is black; all colours are gone as if by theft.

A lone wolf howls, thanking the night

For dimming the sky, turning it black,

And dimming the shine of the snow, silver-white.

I start forwards again, my foot on the track

This wolf had made, its prints in the snow

Are beckoning, telling me where to go.

The wind blows softly, rattling the branches

Of the slumbering trees, and stirring up wisps

It’s a warning I ignore - I like to take chances.

What fun is life if you don’t take risks?

The branches are frightening but quite harmless.

They don’t scare me; they continue regardless.

Between the gaps of wind-blown cloud,

The stars glitter above, like specks of silver,

Shining in the navy black of heaven’s shroud.

The clouds flow smoothly on like a pale river,

Hiding the stars and filtering moonbeams

That fall to the earth in brilliant streams.

The forest stops and the treeline gives way

To a field, covered in snow and drifted smooth

Except for the set of tracks, leading ever away

The wolf howls again, it’s cry to soothe

And assure - it’s far away, too far to find.

I turn back to the forest in shadow defined.

The wind slows, and decreases its sound.

The darkness settles calmly on the land,

The clouds keep light from falling on the ground.

Behind me the trees coldly and boldly stand.

As I reach home, the wolf howls once more -

And night is left like it was before.

Feature - Poem

Mountain Sunset

I’m sitting on a wooded hill, facing west

As evening falls, and dusk draws near.

The indomitable peaks in front of me shine,

with a bright alpenglow, gently illuminating

The lifeless craigs of stone.

The light of the setting sun shines

On the trunks of the trees around me,

Till they shine with a mahogany shade

The colour given only briefly

As a parting gift before the sun disappears.

The sky deepens to a shade of Cerulean,

And now only the clouds glow with colour -

Red and orange and purple and pink

Catching my eye and sparking my wonder

At the silent, majestic beauty of the sky.

The night darkens further, now dark as schorl

And the stars glitter warmly above, 

Like a handful of luminous pebbles

Strewn evenly over the rich, velvet depths

Of the night sky’s mesmerizing darkness.

A nightingale sings somewhere above my head.

Tonight it sings a lamentful dirge.

As the song floats across the hills,

Every note is ingrained in my memory.

Night falls fully now. And with it, peace.