START WITH A POEM

http://www.amazon.com/Alexandra-Clair/e/B008PY1XIQ

If you've read the first two books in the Wood's End Series you may have noticed that I began each with a poem.  Why?  I guess because I occasionally write poetry and much appreciate better poetry - King David, Robert Frost, T.S. Eliot.    

Using a poem to open the first book was accidental.  I came across something I'd written long ago at age twenty three and thought it fit what the fictional character of Andrea was going through.  The second book opens with an excerpt from a much longer poem.  

Below is the poem I plan to open the third book with; The World in the Wood.  Unless, of course, I write something else or stumble on some long forgotten verse between now and completion of the third in the Wood's End series that seems to fit better. 


Will open the third, yet uncompleted book in the series,
The World in the Wood   


AMBIVALENT VICTOR
by, Alexandra Clair
I could not go on.
An avalanche of minutes passed through blackest wood,
Splintered twig mercy to the tempest whim.
No foot fixed,
No life in compass,
I would not go on. 
Until the hand that loosed the comet on a path;
Throne to Spirit,
Spirit to heart God spoke.
"Ambivalent victor you shall be.
Go on."

This excerpt opens the second in the series,
The Year Between the Wood

IN THE CLEARING
by, Alexandra Clair
Dressed for the occasion, 
I'll lean over the casket,
Thinking of those who've known you as I have,
I'll slip this poem into the breast pocket of your human disguise,
Then I'll go back to where I am today,
In the clearing,
Free of you, 
It's warm.

Opens the first book in the series - Wood's End

MICHAEL
by, Alexandra Clair
I'm leaving, she said, I have to go,
And he looked out the window and watched the wind blow,
The grass about and make of the trees,
Frantic dancing dolls dressed in green.
Okay, he lied and she left,
But not without taking a piece of him,
In exchange for quite a lot of her.

ANOTHER POEM
TEA ON TIME
by, Alexandra Clair
I would choose sedate colors, 
starched collars,
tea on time.
He brought me a glittering pink phone singing, 
"I ain't com'in home."
The melody I did not change.
He brought me gardenias in winter, diamonds, and cake.
 I the guest - a breath o'er the stippled pool,
He the tide - never at ease,
Starring down the greedy eye of life stealing risk.
Oh, for gardenias,
The mystery to read,
Fuel to the observer and tea on time... 
with every window wide,
held me spell bound by account, 
That flowers die.


http://www.amazon.com/Alexandra-Clair/e/B008PY1XIQ

Comments

MOST READ BLOGS

DISCERNING SPIRITS: A SPIRITUAL GIFT

WOODS END POST

BATTLING AIR, CONTROLLING KITTENS, KEEPING SCATTER-PROOF ARMLOADS OF SHINY, SLIPPERY MARBLES IN WHITE GLOVED HANDS: I've tried! It doesn't work! Good luck with that!

SEX-ADDICTION AND DELIVERANCE

IS WATER THE SPECIAL DOMAIN OF EVIL SPIRITS? I was asked this question / read my answer below and ask: What does an alarmist concept steal?

EDWARD SNOWDEN, CONTEXT, AND THIS GRANDMOTHERS' OPINION

SLANDER: A Personal Perspective

TWO CHRISTIAN LABELED MOVIES / SON OF GOD / NOAH / MEL GIBSON and the BENCHMARK

Popular posts from this blog

DISCERNING SPIRITS: A SPIRITUAL GIFT

SEX-ADDICTION AND DELIVERANCE

IS WATER THE SPECIAL DOMAIN OF EVIL SPIRITS? I was asked this question / read my answer below and ask: What does an alarmist concept steal?