Thursday, November 27, 2008

A season of reality

It's not the ghost of fantasy
lost and lonely wandering
but a season of reality
getting ready so to pounce
on the vulnerable.

I flex with the knowing
and stand naked and unveiled
in this moment's grief
so contrary to the pose
of a woman with a dream.

Time beckons all into the fold
of waking up, it seems
for dreams are only pauper's gold
of little worth and value
in the soon to be new order
which, of course, has always been.

I once was blind but now I see,
I once had hope but now believe
I and you and them and they
are pawns of reasoning
dangling like the dead
on strings of convenience.

So I dangle, dangle, cavort, dance,
but tip-toe round a heart
for it's right and proper, true, correct,
that heart can sever ties
with the blink of loving eyes!

1 comment:

  1. Hi Helen, I really enjoy your poems. You are a talented writer.Just wandered if you would allow me to use some of your poems on my site, I will put your name on of course. I have a section for Spiritual Poems on my site, and have been putting poems from different authors on this page. The url is
    Please let me know if this is okay with you.
    Many thanks.