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The Nubile Ixi
In the dusty streets of Sakhmet grand
Where spiced fumes dance in crooked tracks
And merchants trade goods from far lands
Scented oils, bottled cataracts
There darts among the crude-dressed stalls
A skimpy slender silhouette
With skin the hue of bronzed-gold fall
An Ixi weaving through Sakhmet
A slender paw sniped jellied glace
And velvet maw curls discreetly
Concealed 'neath pastel silken lace
And brown doe eyes do wink with glee
A Techo touts crusted desert fare
Prim feet dance in mock ballet
He turns - The till isn't there!
The Ixi has enough for the day
As desert moon lifts wan and cold
Dark kisses sand and blue sky-broth
The Ixi's brown eyes turn to gold
And drab grey garb to silver cloth
Her kohl-lashed eyes drop in muted smile
And limbs they fold in gentle rest
Gone from her are thoughts low and vile
As pure peace heaves on tender crest
The Ixi - Nubile, small and pure
The Ixi - Elusive with faint allure
The Ixi - Thief with tattered skirt
Nabile of the Lost Desert
While grumbling to a Psimouse
Beneath the bleakest clouds
That caress Edna's Tower in a shadowy shroud,
I stumble on a tablet screaming of falsehoods
That encircle her sneer
Overwhelming the tall woods
That make up my home. For several years now,
I've pondered the plight:
She draws magic, but how?
On the tablet? A recipe for greatness and fear,
Darkness and gloom, all things rampant here.
I tremble with delight at my discovery: At last!
A means of rebellion against her mortal past!
I stumble through the forest,
Patched hats and straw brooms.
All tossed in a cauldron, I observe an old spell
Take form there before me:
An unnamed black shell.
I grasp it in hunger with a taste for true power
And hide beneath dead bark
'Til the coming witching hour.
Lightning strikes with speed
And chars my very bones
As the fury seeps through and I rush to her home
And burst through the door.
She smiles and howls,
"You've unlocked the key,"
Then cackles and scowls,
"But left out a piece; the woods are still mine.
The oldest of magics only works one time."
Two failed spells later, I accept this as fact,
And the wave and smirk and the vicious impact
Of a green bolt of fire comes tearing on through
My insides and leaves me as a newt for a stew.
I escaped long ago
And have since learned to write,
But learn from my error: Dare not Edna spite.
The Ice Caves
Faraway and underground
Where Bori lie in great abound
Deep beneath all wand'ring feet
Safe from snow and hail and sleet.
Crystals, glimmering frozen rain
Diamond ice and amber cane
Beauty yet unglimpsed by eye
Frosted air like silver sigh.
Pure white light illuminates
Through emerald prism radiates
Perfect pond of water bright,
Clear as breath and still as night.
Silent song, a serenade
Bright sentinels, all unafraid
Inviting dawn and golden air
Inviting light and all things fair.
A Ship With Eyes
The tiny ship dwells in the dark,
Through waves it cleaves its path;
And like a great blood-thirsting shark,
It glares in silent wrath.
The figurehead upon the prow
Stares glass-eyed toward the shore:
A dragon flying on the bow
With one gold eye, no more.
And yellow portholes filled with light
Are carved in wooden sides;
Below, the waves move left and right
Between the murky tides.
Across the holes the shadowed crew,
Before the golden glow,
Move back and forth and waver thus,
While waves and feelings flow.
And so I watch in quiet fear,
I daren't shout my cries;
And I shall not forget its leer,
The wraithlike ship with eyes.
When beauty turns to vanity,
It may seem to appear
As though the path to happiness
Is reflected in a mirror.
Be careful what you wish for,
For the saying still holds true.
Corrupt and shadowed forces
May grant it unto you.
Her beauty did not blind her,
For she did not wish to see.
She bound herself to darkness,
Though her will was always free.
A different kind of beauty shows,
One venomous and cold.
No longer will we see the smile
Of the sweet Acara old.
When one surpasses vanity,
Her heart becomes a stone.
And now her twisted beauty,
She must exalt alone.
Total Poetry Pages : 1972
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