Goldilock's Jewel

This was originally called Blue-Green World, but as that currently has political connotations, I decided to change the name to Goldilock's Jewel.

Goldilock's Jewel

There's a blue-green pearl
dancing through
the darkest night
lit by
distant stars, and
whirling in the
tight embrace of the sun.

Its lustre
a blanket
barely 300 miles thick
stands between us
the dark of night
and the tight embrace
of the sun.

A.J. Ponder

Worth celebrating the world today, because why not. How can we look after it, if we can't appreciate it?

Tuesday Poem: Ghosts

A reflection

of the past. A smudge

of light

 

A memory of fear

Hiding behind the wainscot,

in the cupboard,

under the fridge

...shivering

on the stairs

And still,

it wasn't enough

Our ghosts didn't break the furniture,

or

wail through the night

Not a ghost, more a haunted Fred (Angel cosplay)

rattling chains

Our ghosts

leave that for the living.

A.J. Ponder

Hi, thanks for stopping by to read my poetry, I hope you enjoyed this week's spectral theme. For me, there's something very compelling about writing supernatural poems, to deal with bigger things. So I enjoyed "penning" this one. Not that a pen was involved at all, and I'm sure often isn't in the modern era.

Of course if you love poetry, and want to see more from me, please support me and my next poetry book on ko-fi

 

And lastly, not that this is really to do with the poem, just a random thought as I was trying to think of a title - If ghosts are the things that haunt us, can we haunt them back? - 

Have a great week, 

A.J. 

 

Stolen Time

 In the forest late at night
As the moon was shining
I thought I saw a fair one

Out at midnight dining

A blanket and a basket

A wine of claret red

A bosom warm as dawn

On which to lay his head

I blinked and all t'was over

The night was sped away

And twenty years, they rushed by

The night I passed that way

The fair one he was restless

And jealous of the Day

And fair he held her close

And bid her come his way

She spoke her words so warm
And smiled like winter sun
And when she laughed it burned
Twenty years undone

Now in the forest late at night
When sister Moon is swollen
I beseech her there to free
The years that Day has stolen

But sweet Day, so young and fey  
I do protest in vain
Though my bones turn ashen grey
I love you just the same

A blanket and a basket
A wine of claret red
Your bosom's far too warm
For a mortal's bed

 A.J. Ponder 
 

I love the classic fairy tales of lost time, the deadly romance of it all (mostly the deadly bit) and so this is my homage to those tales and poems (they had such a wonderful way with rhyme and metre) of my misspent youth.  And talking about misspent youth - received "Tiny Trouble" in the mail - thanks to Pearson's Journal, "Comet" and it looks fab :)  Also posted off the paperwork for "Legendary" (co-written with Peter Friend), which will be printed in their "Explore" magazine soonish.

If you love poetry, try out the Tuesday Poem hub http://tuesdaypoem.blogspot.com/
or for more fairytale poetry click here to my Fairytale Poetry Hub

Cheers,
A.J.