The Storm on Wings

 

O, that Majestic Pegasus,

Starglades shining through his

Dancing feet
I, Betwixt his wings…
Leaning, I cling to his mane
As it blows against my face…

Only to awake
To a midnight storm-
The wind rushing through my window…
Blowing my hair onto my cheek.

 

By Dorothy Lear - PLAN client

 

Note on the Author:

Dorothy Lear's poem was published in a book called Timeless Voices, The International Library of Poetry 2006 Her artist profile in the book states:

I am just beginning to live at forty-five years of age. My writing has been nearly stagnant for many years due to the theft of over 500 poems in 1988 in Baltimore, MD. The loss of these words killed part of me. But through time, I realized that in timelessness, in the existence of the unseen, they live on eternally, as does my soul.

 

Lewis Conn is a highly accomplished poet. His enormous catalogue of poems encompass many different styles and genres. He is also a diverse musician who plays multiple instruments, including the guitar, for which this poem is about:

 

To my guitar

 

Like footprints in snow

You have already fused your legacy

My fingers going where they will

The kiss of flesh wandering on strings

 

If I make you cry you make me sad

A mime's last words if he could speak

As I wound you so you wound me

Gentle cousin to this scream

Without a name

 

copyright March 2008