WARRIOR
Evening waits – what dreams abound! Violet, scented, faithful hours, echoes of our steps on fertile ground. A flame that should have crowned our love with flowers, instead your breath devours.
What force, what nerve – none can say! Since evening turned to bitter night, I am a warrior trained to slaughter days; to slash a path, else forge my way, with sword or piercing light near your heart in heavens bright.
Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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