Swings

Tree limb holds the tyre
On twisted rope it swings
Water a leech holds on
As it rocks to and fro

The ground beneath solid
Blades of grass hidden
Kiss the hardened soil
From where they grow

The air is brittle
A cry is heard
Wings cast shadows
‘Cross silvered moon

Orphaned leaves circle
Gathering strength within the wind
And the cry is now a scream
Inside the abandoned barn

Beyond the shadows she is seen
Arched back, waist length hair
Iced in steel swords
She levitates below the beams

Turning to see whose entered
Bones break and could be heard
Onyx eyes stare in my direction
Help engraved into her forehead

 

Perhaps I’ve been watching too many movies of late, but trying to get back into what I enjoy.

The Sharman & the Prisoner (A collaboration – Prose)

Ilya Kisaradov.twistedlamb

Imprisoned not by lock and key
nor anchored by a ball and chain
the encumbrance was my mind
I let you in ~ run free

bemused by your eloquent speech
that led me to your arms
until your voice grated
your body abused and chastised mine

melting me with striking hands
burning bruised my skin ~ my thoughts
there was no escape from you
for your apologies I sought

sanctimonious at battles end
I once more cradled in your arms
but I burn still  ~ though transfixed
like the wax dripping from the flame

©jmtacken Oct 10 2013

Michael from summerstommy2 and I the other night did a collaboration – tonight we have tried it again, the same picture given. He wrote his version (below) of the picture above and I wrote mine.

I do this with Miriam in Words From Here To There but we haven’t been able to catch up for a while to do this 😦 hopefully we will soon.

Here is Michaels

Shaman

shaman, your talisman,
what cure will you afford
the sick in mind
the ill of body

shaman cast your spell
mend my soul
rid me of demons
cleanse me

Shaman curer of ills
flames burning
Chant your song
Weave me your magic

Shaman take my hand
I am lost in myself
I flounder
Immovable.

Photo Credit: Visit twistedlamb.com