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Night Dance

Sit and watch the stars with me,
Beside the crashing, crystal sea,
Beyond the sandy, hilly dells
That echo winds like whisp'ring bells,
At the end of laughing path,
Splashing as it 'neath trees does pass,
The trees that grow 'pon drops of dew
And live, and die, and spring anew.
Still the stars dance in the sky
And o'er the night's black cloak now fly,
To fall beneath the heavens' shroud,
Or wander close to shifting cloud,
Yet always will they rise once more,
To twirl above the water's shore.

To Catch the Sun

The sun is shining low,

O'er the green hills of my home,

O'er the silver river flowing,

And o'er me as I roam.

I know not where they come from,

Those bright rays of the sun,

But someday I will reach them,

When all is said and done.

On and on I travel,

O'er the lanes and byways fair,

I walk along in spring's pale light,

And summer sun's bright glare.

Yes, I walk on along my way,

In fall sun's fading gaze,

And in the shining glint of light,

On darkened winter day.

I left my love and left my home,

To go and chase the sun,

For I must find that guiding light,

When all is said and done.

Spring Again

Softly now the stream is flowing,

Under shoots and roots of trees,

It cares not where now it is going,

It reaches up to touch the breeze.

The wind is whistling through the green leaves,

Quietly it sings its tune,

It brushes past the budding flowers,

Hoping they will bloom full soon.

The flower stretches out its petals,

Basking in the sun's bright rays,

It has been a long, cold winter,

But now spring's glory is ablaze.

Sisters

My sister means the world to me,

More than any treasure,

And I can face most anything,

As long as we're together.

The secret laughs that we have shared,

Are near still to my heart,

and even though we wander on,

We're never far apart.

I take her hand,

And she takes mine,

If we ever start to stray,

And I thank God above for her,

Without fail every day.

She has been there when she's needed,

And knows always what to say,

With a word of comfort ready,

When life is all in dissaray.

When it rains she takes me dancing,

When it thunders she sings loud,

She never gives in to the world,

My sister makes me proud.

So Sister keep on going,

And never turn around,

We'll always be together,

And I'll never let you down.

Winter Rhythm

There's a catchy little rhythm in the crunching of the snow,
As it shines with water droplets in the warmth of sunlight's glow.
I can hear it in the whistle of the winter wind so cold,
And the song of every cardinal with his feathers bright and bold.
Listen closely--can you hear it? In the cracking of the ice,
And the creaking of the bushes, each leaf clear and so precise.
I can hear it in the jingle of each shining, silver bell,
Ringing out so merrily their voice throughout the dell.
Yet though I hear it in the noises, I hear it most of all,
In the silence of the winter, and each new snowflake's fall.

A Winter Night

Softly still the snow is falling,
To the quiet world below,
Muffled in its veil of crystals,
Blown in cold wind to and fro.
Through the shifting, cloudy blanket,
That covers up the dark night sky,
A flash, a twinkle, I see the radience,
Glittering from the stars on high.
Spears of moonlight rain down to me,
Shattering o'er the frosted earth,
I wonder if each were a diamond,
Could we even price their worth?
Softly still now I am walking,
Through this quiet winter scene,
While frosted breath floats to the heav'ns,
My thoughts rise up unto my King.

The Traveling Salesman

"Drink a drop of life today,
Drink a drop and live,
Seen things never seen before,
See things that are hid,"
That's what the salesman calls aloud,
Holding out his wares,
Inviting in the interested,
And all the curious stares.
"Sir," said he, "I ask of you,
Can you harness the strength of giants?
For what's the use of hidden means,
And is your shoe leather pliant?
And madam, surely you could use,
A jar of beauty cream?
It smoothes out wrinkles, spots, and scars,
It's every woman's dream."
So on and on the salesman went,
Peddling here and there,
Shoes and rope, and other things,
And ribbons for pretty girls' hair.
I simply smiled and walked on by,
Though he called twice to 'stop',
For I was drinking a bottle of life that day,
Each smile another drop.

A Distinction

Life is made of minutes,
And days, and hours, and years,
But all is simply seconds,
That soon will disappear.
Yet something I have noticed,
Perhaps you've noticed as well?
Is that seconds are not most important,
They are not where our memories dwell.
The time wasn't measured in seconds,
When your baby brother was born,
Or when you went to your Mother,
In the midst of the raging storm.
It wasn't the seconds that counted,
When you were fishing down by the lake,
With Grandpa casting your line out,
While Dad took a coffee break.
No, it wasn't the seconds that mattered,
But the moments, wherein they lay,
So don't forget to take time
To live in the moment each day.

Autumn is Coming

Can you see the gilded cloak,
As lazy summer's spell is broke?
It flashes red, and gold, and brown,
o'er valley and the tall tree's crown.
A flash of white as bounding deer,
Run through thickets and disappear.
The placid blue of silent lake,
The silver flash the fish do make.
A chocolate blur of little squirrel's hide,
Gathering food for winter-tide.
Or perhaps you smell the crisping air?
Or of ripening apples are aware?
The musty scent of falling leaves,
and the swaying of the gold wheat sheaves.
Autumn is coming, can you hear?
The wind is whistling far and near.
And through the wispy clouds on high,
The geese are flying, side by side,
Warning of the chill to come,
As they go to find the sun.
The crackling of the leaves below,
Soon to be muted by ice and snow.
The laughter of the children small,
As once again they greet the fall.

The Adventures of Sir Malchance, Part 2

When we last left Malchance and Loyal they had just sighted a burning village. Seeing a group of dejected villagers, they go over:

"What happened here?" asked Malchance. A sooty mayor stepped forward,
"The dragon, Sir Knight!" Malchance quickly scanned the sky,
"What dragon? Where? I don't see a dragon."
"The dragon that burned down our village of course!" replied the mayor.
"Drat!" said Malchance, "There goes my quip about playing with flint and steel. I don't suppose the dragon was playing with fire, was he?" The mayor looked at Malchance, perplexed,
"ou're wasting your time, Sir Knight! What about the visiting princess? The dragon carried her off to it's lair!"
"What's this?" asked Malchance, smiling, " A damsel in distress?Why didn't you say so? Which way?" He paused. "If she is a princess, where are her guards? I don't see anyone here, begging your pardon, who looks like a castle guard." The mayor sighed. This knight was giving him a headache.
"The guards ran off when they saw the dragon coming. They weren't very good guards."
"Oh," said Malchance, "Anyway, which way is the dragons lair?" The mayor pointed, and Malchancerode off, leaving behind a very confused group of villagers.

TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Sir Malchance; Part 1

Once upon a time there was a knight named Malchance. Being newly knighted, he had set out with his steed, Loyal, to find great deeds to do. Loyal was not an ordinary horse, he had the gift of speech. Having no idea where they were going, the two heroes traveled aimlessly, hoping to come upon a damsel in distress, or something like that. Malchance was just about to remark on this when a gang of thieves ran out into the road and surrounded them. That was just his luck.
"I can handle this." muttered Malchance to Loyal.
"Hand over your coins or pay the price!" sneered the man whom Malchance took to be the leader.
"Why don't you just say one or the other?" asked Malchance. The leader was caught off guard,
"I don't see what you mean."
"It's quite simple, really," replied Malchance. "You said 'Hand over your coins or pay the price'. Handing over my coins will be paying you, and if I pay the price you'll probably take my coins anyway. So why say both?" The leader pondered this for a moment.
"I never thought of it that way," he paused, "If you help me you can go free." Malchance agreed.
"Why not try 'Hand over your coins or else'? That could imply almost anything, and would leave victims to ponder their fate."
The thieves murmured amongst themselves in approval.
"Or," said Malchance, "you could accept gold coins from me, go to King Arthur, and ask to be of service." The leader shrugged,
"How may coins do we get?"
In the end, Malchance gave them ten gold marks, which was a sizable amount of money then. Malchance and Loyal soon left the bandits behind.
"I can't believe you actually thought of that," Loyal remarked. Malchance smiled happily. Coming over the ridge of a hill they saw a burning village.
"What happened here?" asked Malchance.
"I don't know," replied Loyal, "Let's find out.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Just an Update...

Dear Reader:

As a change from my normal poetry, I have decided to post a short story series I have written. I will post the first section today, and each next section every other day. I hope you enjoy this change of pace!

In Christ,
Molly

The Forest Walk

Deep among the ancient trees,
Where no wind dares stir the leaves,
Where the sunlight, tinted green,
Plays upon a quiet scene,
The babbling brook makes no more sound,
Gliding silently o'er it's path worn through the ground,
The netted shadows shift and shake,
Spots of sunlight to overtake,
The birds are piping their lilting song,
Quieter as the day wears long,
And o'er the mossy forest floor,
Deer step as out of folktale lore,
The light takes on a golden hue,
As the sun fades to become new,
And as you walk away again,
You close your prayer for peace, "Amen".

Day After Day

As the day lays down to sleep,
And clouds the sky so gently sweep,
The trees are cast in shadows long,
The birds are winding down their song,
The wind picks up and hums a tune,
To the slowly rising moon,
Now the stars come out to dance,
Shining brightly at first chance,
For soon the dawn will come once more,
Without even a whisper, much less a roar,
And shed a light again o'er the world,
A sail made of light, sudd'nly unfurled,
That rides overhead through the blue sky,
Reaches higher and higher, 'til no more it can fly,
And sinks again back, down past the sea,
No more 'til morning it will I see,
Once more I go to bed to rest,
And say, "Oh Lord, I'm surely blessed".

My Lord, My God

In this world of pain and grief,
With people devoid of all belief,
Sometimes it's hard to carry on,
Clouds obscure the Son's bright dawn,
But when I cry out to my King,
He takes me under His shelt'ring wing,
He picks me up when I fall down,
My Lord, my God, won't let me drown!
I'm not perfect, and this He knows,
Yet He loves more than I could suppose,
Yes, I'll be true 'til all is done,
And the world is bathed in rays of the Son.

The Horse

Amidst the green grass of the pasture,

Beside the wood fence worn,
You stand there with a white coat pure,
Blue flowers your mane adorn.
You gallop through the short, hale grass,
And underneath the trees,
Your speed does well all things surpass,
You breathe the clean spring breeze.
And when the night has come again,
And the moon shines bright,
In your stall you will remain,
Peaceful through the night.

Time Marches On

Time marches on with measured footfalls,

Passing through our weakly built walls,
It never leaves, nor stops, nor rests,
Hear it ticking- softly ticking-
Still it's ticking!
And it contains many hard tests.


Remember that to us it's measured,
And it must be greatly treasured,
Hark! The winds of change are speaking!
Hear them blowing- softly blowing-
Still they're blowing!
And they our very lives are seeking!


For through our fingers time is seeping,
Resolve to be no more found sleeping!
We must rise above this earth's chains,
Hear them breaking- loudly breaking-
Now they're breaking!
For the Lord, He still sustains!

A Poem of Poems

I have not written in awhile,
Anything to make you smile,
For that I do apologize,
But nothing has yet caught my eyes,
To write another poem about,
Nothing has yet been so stout,
As to stand the scrunity,
Of a poet's eye, like me,
So for now I will search on,
from the evening 'till the dawn,
Hoping ever yet to find,
The perfect thing for which to ryhme!

The Lord Above

The sunlight gently filtered down,

Through the top of trees' green crown,
And played upon the forest floor,

Though shadows it did not explore,

And waved in passing to the breeze,

That wound it's way through ancient trees,

Emerging on a rocky height,

Where below, the ground dwindled out of sight,

And farther out the ocean's roar,

Echoed, as at the rocks it tore,

And the seagull crying overhead,

Passed o'er the path on which I tread,

And as I gazed upon this scene,

A voice came to me, as in a dream,

"Behold, all that you see and more

From forest trees to rocky shore,

Was made by Me, the Lord above,

And is cherished much, with tender love."