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A sample of new poems written by Debra Thompson.
All poetry contained in these pages protected by copyright.
A single word, a simple glance, a lingering thought inspiration brings.
Even a television show about a ghost haunting a lighthouse...
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In Shadow and Moonlight
Draped in white, she glides the shore
Her heart once broken, beats no more
Her sigh she heaves upon the air
A world of sorrows eclipse her stare.
She walks the beach in silver light
Soft moans and whimpers fill the night
Above the roar of rushing wave
Free from the confine of the grave.
She seeks for what she cannot find
On shores moon-silver beams have lined
In moonlight and in shadow deep
This widow walks as though in sleep.
For such, there is no earthly escape
Nor doorway from this wretched place
The forlorn, who in purgatory lie,
Know mortal anguish refuses to die.
Alone she wanders, beyond the night
Searching for someone in silver moonlight
Her lonely footsteps continually be
Filled with the tears of a grieving sea.
Then one night by pale moon’s face
Her beloved and his love in sweet embrace
The lonely widow chances to see
And to the doorway, finds the key.
Drowning in the roar of an angry sea
The anguished widow despairs to flee
To escape the misery of this sight,
Her husband and his wife, their wedding night.
Yon doorway opens a moment, no more
Blinded, the crying girl races down the shore
She flings herself into the frothy sea
Ne’er more to roam, ne’er more to breathe.
****
Crescent Moon
As leaves of grass
tip-toe through the night
their murmuring sighs tickle my ear
as if I am face down in cool dew.
The wind whispers as a lover would
into the ear exposed by
the silken sheet of moonlight
peering over my shoulder,
laying crescent shaped upon wet blades.
A silvery night-light is cast
upon the darkness of my room,
softly surrounds,
falling as the raindrop,
to splash and scatter
the night,
to shatter my gloom.
****
Winter Dreams
Twilight settles slowly upon the light
As first day falters, then falls into night
The restless wind rises and is borne aloft
Night air darkens, with caresses soft.
A candle is lit, sits softly aglow
Cool dark breezes soft whispers bestow
Sweet promise of hope is birthed each night
Jealously guarded till first ray of light.
Casually descending, vague as the snowflakes without
Unencumbered thoughts drift, rid of doubt
Sleepy dreams nod, beckoning within
Winter cover of darkness absolves all sin.
****
November Rains
The moon rises lazily
o'er this cold autumn night,
melancholy gloom peering into deep shadows.
The earth and tree, the flower and bird,
the memory -
motionless in ghostly light,
complete in silence.
Dare I find it deserving to stir the air
lying still before me,
would I find it so easy to again caress
the sigh once abandoned,
trace the tear long ago run dry.
Could I embrace anew this love,
so horrible, so fated -
so resolute it refused to die.
The wind stirs coldly,
awakening in violent motion,
leaping to snatch away
the words his mouth would speak.
Thoughtless memories, careless whispers
left to linger in abject silence.
The soulless breeze pauses,
my cheek to tenderly blush
before bearing away words he could not utter.
In fanciful flight, like leaves
scattering before the rising tide,
this autumn wind borne
on the cold reaches of the night.
Longing abandoned by voice,
endlessly spoken in his eyes.
Sheeting down in rushing torrents,
November rains perversely rob me
of this, the last hour of my fantasy,
woven throughout hushed autumn nights.
Dripping, falling away,
burnished as the leaves
in warm afternoon pale light,
floating in the sunlight as daydreams,
wispy webs woven to fade before twilight.
Reminding me love is like the blush of summer,
the briefest dream of all
a season born of spring's virginal desire.
Gloriously, defiantly dying
pregnant with emotion,
as the last of autumn leaves
die...
The decay of all emotions
fall swirling around my feet
and I'm on my knees once again
bare limbs clutching at dreams.
****
The Tryst
Beneath pale worlds and silver moonlight
Two lovers in their tryst
Lie hidden from sight, in glowing moonlight
Stolen kisses in their midst
As daylight dawns in eastern sky
Two lovers leave their lair
Suddenly shy, ‘neath incandescent sky
As a shameful blush fills the air
The earth, the sea, the wounded beast
Lie exposed as heaven yawns above
And yet we, most wounded of beast
Constrain the greatest gift, love.
Love freely offered, scarce freely given
At liberty to love, save their soul
Not free in word, to others given
To love or not, beyond their control.
From this tryst, this one sweet night
Let not one whisper nor kiss be lost,
Nor surrender a lingering glance tonight
Lest one thought remain, the cost.
****
Even Lover’s Drown
The sound of the wind,
coolly whispering through the reeds
was the first almost imperceptible clue,
in a day warm and still before.
Caught up in the casting of line
where an unsuspecting fish might strike,
I nearly didn’t understand what I heard
until it was too late.
The sound of the rain
galloping across the lake
a distant thought,
an almost dismissed thought.
It was very nearly upon me,
before I realized what I was hearing.
Too late to outrun it, we sat in silence.
The first of the rain clouds reached us
and burst overhead
pelting us with fat, juicy raindrops,
quickly drenching us to the shivering bone.
We turned the boat and gunned the engine,
as heaven rained gurgling laughter upon us
until we too burst into almost hysterical laughter,
helpless before such contagious joy.
Sunlight peeked through clouds
as oft times a smile will linger
through a bout of joyous tears.
We laughed that day, until we cried,
tears mingling with the drenching downpour of the sky.
We made our way across that dark lake,
beneath darker, heavier clouds,
our eyes barely open against the stinging onslaught.
Never before had I been pelted
by such fast moving hard drops of rain.
Wherever we went, the rain soon followed.
Literally we squeezed gallons of water
from our clothes, water showering down our legs.
Teeth chattering from the sudden change in temperature
and the cold rain we headed for shore.
As we loaded the boat,
one loud crack of thunder
ripped wide the sky and released a single stroke of lightning.
Boat loading concluded
we jumped for safety
within the confine of the hot, stuffy pickup truck.
The rain drying on my skin
quickly in the heat of the vehicle.
We caught no fish that day,
but we did laugh.
****
Innocence
May all hatred
No matter how large or small,
How well-deserved,
Or undeserved
May it all flee my soul,
Leaving my heart free
Once more to grow
and foster
Innocence,
To blossom as loves sweet bloom.
‘Tis sweet indeed to find my will
A shadow of His,
Whose will I seek.
The thunder roared
The sky stood still
In the frightening lightning show.
A scowl, a curse,
The darkest gloom,
Bereft of Heaven’s light,
This my deepest, darkest night.
But as the wind screams o’er my head
My cheeks stinging, reddened raw,
As every spring in Heaven’s store
Bursts forth in bellowing flow…
Still I will smile,
My laugh will ring out
In darkness and in light.
For my hand is swallowed up in His strong grip,
My breath caught in His loving sigh.
And I?
I am happy.
****
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Lost Cause
The night is calling,
stars are falling.
Your name slips from my lips.
The moon plays chase
across your face,
and in the shadows
I pause,
a lost cause.
Dawn drips morning dew,
shines so sweetly on you.
Your name crosses my mind.
The rising sun flares
in your golden red hair,
and in the blaze
I pause,
a lost cause
Rain falls softly as heaven sorrows,
a windblown kiss borrows
my name lingering on your lips.
Gray skies surround,
dripping passion all around
but I can’t see
for in your arms
I pause,
a lost cause.
****
Moonbeams
Moonbeams ripple upon heaven’s shore
Deeply resplendent in sullen skies
Moon waves beat at God’s own door
As shadows darken wrothful eyes
Moonlight puddles upon the floor
frightened stars neglect to rise
Moonshine scatters across the moor
A lonely witness to day’s demise.
****
Rising Tides
Who am I
when he is here?
I don’t see clearly,
I don’t hear clearly.
My mind stays cloaked in fog,
my breathing shallow,
uneven.
If I don’t love him,
and surely I don’t,
not anymore –
why does he still
have power over me?
And he does
have power over me.
I hate him for it,
but worse
I hate myself for it.
for allowing it to be.
I paint a picture in my mind,
over and over
of me lying huddled in a heap,
in the center of a dimly lit room,
spider webs in the gloom.
My arms are crossed over my head,
some sort of pitiful protection,
shivering, cowering, fearful,
I am alone
yet, I am powerless to move.
Unable to get up,
or walk away,
though my jailer is not in the room,
powerless,
again.
Why? Oh why?
Anguished sobs gather
like storm clouds at sea,
whipping up waves of disgust,
foaming, loathing, upon consciousness.
This rising tide of discontent
which erodes my very being,
carries tiny pieces of me
from my shore,
out beyond the deep.
Ever damp, every shifting, ever slammed upon,
as the sands of the earth,
are attacked on endless shores.
Endless cycles that wear me down,
into tiny pieces that slip through my hands.
Endless clutching for what remains of me.
Fantasy in moonlight fades
before the stark reality of noon glare.
I lift my arms to the sky,
whisper in the wind,
why, God, why?
Why me?
I need to keep moving,
to break free of this moment,
which is so much like the one a week ago,
or a month, or a year ago,
keep moving ahead of the fog.
Storm clouds lower themselves
to drape me as a shroud,
burying me beneath
the foul wind
of his breath.
I long for the wind to blow these clouds
out to sea
to return clarity to me,
and the peace of a brilliant starlit night,
the gift of unobstructed sight.
Freely offered,
humbly received.
Amen.
****
Spider Webs
All tangled up inside,
I have nowhere to run.
Looking for a place to hide
but you’ve left no hiding places
in my mind.
You’ve filled all the spaces,
taken away all the places
I used to run to.
You were supposed to be
a sanctuary for me,
instead you left me alone
with these spider webs you wove
in the dark recesses of my mind.
I’ll never be able to atone
for the power I gave you
to leave me this way.
****
Paint the Sky
Lines were drawn in the dust
finger-painted across the sky.
Those primary colors fill my mind,
particles of light bouncing around
inside the reflection.
Paint the sky
transparent, iridescent.
Lines were crossed too early
and redrawn almost without thought.
Crossed again and again,
no second chances
for the artist in the sand.
Paint the sky
transparent, iridescent.
****
Rainbow
Oh rainbow,
so vibrant, so alive
if only for a time.
Just like hope
spanning the horizon
ever out of reach
yet I reach -
and return empty handed.
For there is no pot of gold,
just muddled, muddied colors
lying stained
in the oily mix of humanity.
I pick my way through puddles,
not quite free to make a splash
and I can’t stop the tears
from spilling over
as the wind picks up again.
howling at my back.
Whatever colors once were
strewn across my sky
have faded to black
in the darkness of impending storm
I’m rushing by the usual places
turning away from
smiling, sarcastic faces.
Head uncovered,
I flee the rain -
heart revealed,
I flee the pain.
Though it hovers over my head
just like these thunderclouds
gathering uncertainty,
raindrops bursting forth words
to fall around my ears
as self defeat howls about my face.
All I see as I scan the pavement,
are puddles of dirty rainbows.
.
****
Reflections
I am
stiff jointed,
halting, awkward and submissive -
entangled in lines.
Forced, movement becomes duty,
no grace, no flow.
Seeing only derision
when I look into his eyes,
I frown back.
You have
brought music
back into my heart,
rythym into my soul.
With you, I dance.
Movement fluid and free,
I sway and I twirl
Unencumbered by lines.
In your eyes I see my reflection
and smile back.
Muscles bunch and knot,
twisting and turning inward.
I close my eyes –
can’t hear my voice anymore.
****
Disarray
I still can see her there,
beneath the arch of the doorway,
standing alone.
I pause in the shadow,
catching her unaware.
She looks lost - bewildered,
her glance full of disarray.
Eyes downcast,
wearing her cloak of shame.
She leans for a minute,
suddenly unsteady
as if a forlorn wind blew
through her soul
piercing her numbness.
A small hand reaches out
to find nothing,
for there is nothing
about her –
but her.
Darkness clothes her
in whispers.
She dares not speak
her voice drowned
in silent tears
so many years ago.
Yet, words fall
in riotous tears,
cascading
down her cheeks,
upon the stone which steadies her.
Laying her wet cheek upon it,
she draws strength from the ages.
Stolen from the chaos
which whirls about her,
this brief moment in a doorway,
pendent in time.
I dare not move
nor startle this
ephemeral moment,
cradled in shaking hands.
She passes through
and is gone from sight,
yet a shadow remains
upon the stone,
a sob upon the air.
I release my pent-up breath
as time resumes its crawl
across the courtyard.
****
Bury the Poet
Bury the poet
on a grassy highland knoll.
Wildflowers riotously blooming
as Abbey bells toll.
Bury the poet
‘neath a dune of blowing sand.
Monument sculpted by wind
not by human hand
Bury the poet
Lay her below an old oak tree.
Gray squirrels all a chatter
golden leaves upon her knee.
Bury the poet
‘ere the snows fall still and deep.
Bury the weary poet
settle her gently down to sleep.
Bury the poet
moonbeams to pillow her head.
In the path of a full moon lay her dreaming,
by silvery light prepare her bed.
Bury the poet
beside the twisting river that winds.
Tossing and turning complete
sweet release, pray she finds
Bury this poet
but her verse do not include.
Whispering words far too often
restful sleep did intrude.
****
Moonrise
Crickets roar,
as all else lies
in dark repose.
You rise,
silver realm of light,
to silence the road.
Weary traveler,
held in abeyance -
embraced by your brilliance,
kneels in awe,
the splendor
of your essence
spilling forth o’er
a sleeping earth.
****
Phoenix
Taking shape
within the smoke,
rising above the ashes,
I change -
from whomever I was
into whoever I might be.
Through the flames,
I walk -
though the flame
burns inside me -
holy fire consuming,
until at last
I rise.
****
911
I awake to find myself numb.
Words refuse to offer themselves complete,
words of understanding,
of acceptance,
of comfort.
I stumble through a maze of broken sentences,
"it can't be, no, please, oh God."
One word I hear sliding from my consciousness
is the word adequate.
Nothing will ever be adequate again.
That word ceased to exist yesterday morning
for the United States.
What punishment could be adequate?
What comfort would be adequate?
What news will be adequate?
No more, it is no more.
I pray,
it is all I can do.
God understands
the language of the broken...
****
Time
Time,
when it’s rushing past
in the form
of a gurgling creek
does not seem in a hurry
seems not lazy as it
meanders around bends
and doubles back on itself
is not wasteful as it cascades
over ancient rock
frozen in…
time,
when it’s whistling through
leafy treetops overhead
as the gentle voice of wind
does not seem to pass unnoticed
seems not without purpose
as it wanders through leaves
enticing them to dance with abandon
does not decay
when they fall and crumble
as autumn’s glory runs out of…
time,
when it’s spent reflecting
on the great vastness of sea,
gazing o’er distant horizons
does not seem forgotten,
seems not diminished,
ebbing as it were in great waves
crashing endlessly upon eroding shores
consciousness lies abandoned in this mystery
yet in the pause a thought is born…
time.
****
Rain on Me
Your mercy and your grace
fall down upon me
oh, rain down Lord,
rain on me.
Your forgiveness flows
around me Lord
like the swell of a gentle sea,
Lord, your salvation
sets me free.
Rain down Lord,
rain on me.
****
I Am
I am come from the darkness
that was the beginning,
behold the light
which has no ending.
I was there when waters
were birthed into flowing,
and I will remain long after
the earth lies unknowing.
I am the light that dances
o’er the waves in the sea,
dancing with abandon
forever, I will be.
I am the wintry wind,
twisting ice through tall oaks.
The snow falling quietly,
garden stones I cloak.
I am the roar you hear
in the voice of thunder,
the awe in a small child’s
smile of wonder.
I am the gentle caress
of summer rains,
the raging tornado
rushing o’er the plains.
I am the beginning,
yea, the end,
all color and sound
I am the breath of life
I am the great I am.
****
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