Regularly, when the Muse is benevolent I write poems. Here’s a selection.
A Tale of Two Stories
The crimson sky stands proud against the fading light
As threads of weightless gold weave patterns for the night
Revered, Earth moves towards the dark side of her spin
The night’s beauty echoes the stillness from within.
A breeze plays with the curtains and the soul
The veil slips from the limbs, reveals the body whole
Warm shade of passion draws the figures on the bed
Gives life to thirsty loins, fills up the lonely head.
And though the clock remains the master of the game
The lovers linger free from time that has no claim
Where lips touch skin hands follow traces yet unknown
Searching the torch that brightly shines we’re not alone.
This ancient tale so sweet now twines our stories, too
Into a kid-glove morning, still wond’ring what to do
As Master Sun ascends to warm the bright, clear day
Sure you and me will strike upon our godsend way.
Hannah Warren
7 July 2006
You who can
Take away
A shadow larger than life
Reveal the girl
Her passion
And her joy.
A clearer daylight
Shines
When you’re around
Impalpable but precious
All the same.
You who can
Still the demon
With a gesture of your hand
Are evidence he’s gone
Dead simple
As it is.
How can I ever
Fathom
How great
Thou art?
Hannah Warren
7 December 2009
For timeless time love was forgotten
A dried and pallid rose
In the bottom drawer of my chest.
No fragrance but of memories past
In which my garland Prince rode by
Alive his crimson bloom alive but left
To slay the dragons, save his heart
For me alone.
Anything that touched me once
Lay still now
In the bottom drawer of my chest.
Still, in the dark a new bud stirs to burst
Until its perfect petals sparkle joy
Unknown, unprecedented
Joy.
I know
My Prince has won
Has conquered time and age
In victory rides back
For us, we live, may love once more again.
The bottom drawer holds the treasure.
Hannah Warren
3 May 2010
