Knotted Hands

There’s a dusty dollhouse in the basement.
A birthday present for a grandniece
you knew was too young to know the value.
You made it with your hands,
Hands that used to know the wood.
Many growth rings later,
I wonder if you have forgotten how.
Do you miss the roar of the ban saw
or the rhythm as you whittled?
Your knuckles contorted,
branches twisting upward.
My favorites were the tulips
that fit in my small and clumsy hands.
You made them for Aunt Virginia.
I haven’t seen them since she passed.
Ash trees to ashes.
Sawdust to dust.
Hands that once bent nature,
Now Nature bends and leaves dusty,
like the dollhouse in the basement.

Costs of Conflict

I saw War when I was young;
it found me where I lived.
Two sides conflicted in close quarters,
Vying for a homeland.
A battle raged from nothing,
Quiet is never peace.
Atom Bombs in the family room
Nightmares in my sleep.
Mother's tears fell like Agent Orange
and Father's words were napalm.
Be careful where you step;
Verbal land mines in the backyard.
I made a shelter out of blankets
but it didn't muffle sound.
My reinforcements crumbled.
Surrender, Surrender…
"You're a brave little soldier,"
they would say
but I didn't want this fight.
Papers were signed but there's no treaty.
I am a refugee from my own home
where we marked my height on the wall.
You can't take that with you.
My homeland is occupied now;
they have painted over my name.
War has a heavy price to pay
but you ask me "what’s the cost?"

Idle Lover

My lordship speaks perilous poison
if he wilt not forswear love

I shalt ne’ver slander grace
vouchsafe fortune with your vow

Methinks your manner quenches winter’s breast
wherefore vehemence foul dost warrant woe.

Were it you who would seek thee only a maiden woman
then loath in thy mischance of my wicked torment

Hence I will ask question of myself as a lady
and perchance envy yon wanton goblet or ghostly bosom

Alas, every death doth dream through mortal measure
Sanctify nothing. Tempt me from melancholy night.

Loathsome farewell, yield.

[Fun with Shakespearean Magnetic Poetry by Page and Amanda]

Give Me Your Hand

Give me your hand

just to steady my own.
Lead me wearily down
this tangled road to love.
Silence in a multitude of sound
And I slip behind.

Do you know where we are?

Echoes, reflections,
Trees cast shadows
on the windshield.
You trap me with your kisses
And you cage me with your arms.

How did I end up here alone?

It's your resistance halting.
I will hold you to your word
in this place we have created
to the brighter end of passion.
If I can't have your heart then

Give me your hand.