Blendrome

Many lifetimes, within a single life,
past memories, of how it used to be.
Continuous change, be it bliss or strife,
folding in on you, turning out on me.

It’s not just time, or how it passes on,
it’s an ever-changing universal plan.
A twist of fate the coming of new dawn,
your spirit knew before it all began.

The loss of a loved one, the birth of a child,
feel it in your soul, know it causes change.
It’s always been there, be it strong or mild,
It’s another lifetime, it’s not really strange.

It can be beautiful; it can be pain to some,
I’ve given it a name; I call it, Blendrome.

Yea have I sat in discernment of love

Yet choose I must he who fits as a glove

Pain and anguish tear at my fragile soul

Now to decide weighing passion and dole

So thee art a God I thought I could trust

Yea that now I pay for my sins of lust

Pablo or Martin I am forced to choose

Whom ever I pick the other shall loose

An anguish so great it tears at my heart

Yet from either love nay I stayed apart

O my good Lord how I let them  know me

Like a whore I spent my body for free

I am now to pay the eternal price

Condemnation is not a sacrifice

Elf House in a Tree

Something we know how to do

Is build a place to hide from you

High up in the trees we climb

For scattles of years; in elfin time

So the king of elves came to me

Said build a house up in a tree

All he had to do was ask

Then the elves set to the task

A house in a tree, that’s what he said

To hide from humans that we dread

So we huddled we to whisper

To keep our plans much crisper

We need a name; what to call it?

A Tree House! That name will fit

So now our work has just begun

Hammering, singing elfin fun

A secret place high in the tree

A place where no one else can see

A place to hide for another scattle

To avoid a nasty battle

A cozy place, a place to love

High up in the tree above

Secret creatures, Elves are we

Now living high up in the tree

This poem is written in amera style. If you’re not acquainted with it, it’s two poems in one. One poem is nested within the other differentiated by the bold print. The inside poem (bold print) should be read one line at a time. This style can depict two opposing points of view or draw attention to the main point of the poem.

Mother Earth, she gives us birth.

Then the fire lends Desire.

The Wind, the Air; it’s always there.

And Water is our daughter.

                     by: Amera Eileithyia

The cacophony of panting on exhalation

The coxswain’s cadence without hesitation

Waves splashing on the gunwale shell

Grace and beauty like a Canterbury Bell

My spoon is fully squared at the catch

Nicely anchored, in the rowlock latch

Incessant sculling angle and pitch

Waiting for the Half Pressure switch

Using all our skill teamwork and such

Leading the regatta but not by much

Our Bow Ball crosses the finish line

Winning the race and feeling divine

Silver Wynd: The first on-line poet that actually inspired me and now she’s my friend. Visit her page at: http://www.journalhome.com/profiles/SilverWind