Poems

Along the Crooked Path

Along the Crooked Path

Along the crooked path we walk
Harmonizing with birdsong as we talk

We wander along a sun-dappled path
Through forests’ edge to meadows ahead
Summer’s sweet kiss gives warmth to the land
My steps now guided by a nice young lad

His lass bore a child before they wed
This the town folk would not understand
Beside my cottage now a cabin stands
He says he wants to be a conjure man

The garden blossoms as our family grows
All the herbs have been hung and dried
Horse and cow in the barn by the shed
I shall tell the children a story tonight

As they tuck into bed with the moonrise
I steal away and into the night
My heart and hands reach up high
I sing a song of sorrow and joy

Though my hearth now brims with love
The craft I work is still a road for one
Along the crooked path I walk


~ By Juniper 2009

RePost: The Crooked Path

Because its my blog and I’ll post what I want to. Also because I have received requests to write a sequel so it is on my mind. What shall happen to our heroine?

The Crooked Path

Alone I walk the crooked path
A heavy basket upon my back

Through moonlit groves to home at last
Guided by dimming stars above my head
Through the valley and around the bend
With eager eyes do I see the gate ahead

Behind me lays the farmer’s hedge
Beyond the hill does my cottage stand
Away from village lights and prying eyes
I work a craft they cannot understand

My garden beckons while my dog does growl
Heavy basket goes into potting shed
Herbs to be hung with morning light
It is the stew pot that I seek tonight

Dog gets fed and cow is checked
I lay me down upon a lonely bed
I dare to dream of a village-life lived
With a family and a loving husband

But the life I lead is a road for one
In a creaking home blasted with cold drafts
Alone I walk the crooked path

~ by Juniper 2008

Death Came by Last Night

Death came by last night

The pup wasn’t thriving, he was barley eating

Puggy Sue kept pushing him away from her other babes

She looked at me with sad, calm eyes

We did the best we could, we tried everything

But the wee pup wasn’t thriving, he wasn’t growing

Finally, I went to bed

I woke in the dead of the night and went to Puggy Sue

The pup wasn’t thriving; he was barley alive

Puggy Sue had pushed him a way and buried him in a blanket

I wrapped him more gently and tucked him in the corner of the pen

Puggy Sue looked at me with sad, calm eyes

I went back to bed

I did not light a candle

I left the whiskey in the bottle on the counter

I did not fill the bowl

I did not leave an offering for Death

For gratitude for mercy, to appease, to beg to leave

I went to bed

I did not bribe the ferryman

I was so very tired; it was so very late at night

I woke with the sun and buried the babe

Then went to the kitchen for a cup of tea

My mother had… Continue reading

The Last Litter

The Last Litter

This is the last litter you will ever have
The last labour you will have to face
The last dead pup you will try to save
If I could, I’d take your pain

One more time dear
Take a breath that’s deep
One last litter of puppies
For your god and master – man

Never again will you be cold
Or left at night all alone
Never will you be dirty and matted
Or allowed to be emaciated

One more litter
One last time
Brave little Momma
With deep brown eyes

When your babies are old enough
They will go to loving homes
They will sleep in children’s beds
And never know the pain you had

When this last litter has grown and gone
We will find you a loving home
A sweet old man who needs a friend
Or a sad widow who will return your love

No more hunger
No more fear
This to you
I do so swear

Rumi

These spiritual window-shoppers,
who idly ask, ‘How much is that?’ Oh, I’m just looking.
They handle a hundred items and put them down,
shadows with no capital.

What is spent is love and two eyes wet with weeping.
But these walk into a shop,
and their whole lives pass suddenly in that moment,
in that shop.
Where did you go? “Nowhere.”
What did you have to eat? “Nothing much.”

Even if you don’t know what you want,
buy something, to be part of the exchanging flow.

Start a huge, foolish project,
like Noah.

It makes absolutely no difference
what people think of you.

***

I asked, “what do I see? Is it an angel or a being?”
Said “It’s neither an angel nor a being, is another, say no more”
“Tell me what is. I will fall apart. End my torment?”
Said, “Just fall apart, be tormented, say no more!”

***

We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee;
we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.
We are as pieces of chess engaged in victory and defeat:
our victory and defeat is from thee, O thou whose qualities are… Continue reading

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