Rhymes and Rhythms

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This is a collection of some of my poetic thoughts and rhythm prose. Most of this deals with the spirit and the soul. Although not born Celtic, I have such an affinity with the Celts that I truly believe in the rebirth of the soul. Some of my poetry addresses this.

Celtic Child - A little poem that speaks of that first moment when I found myself on the shores of Cardigan Bay and recognized the sense of homecoming I felt there. My soul belongs to Wales and Ireland.

Dancing Eyes - This is a personal tribute to a special person whose eyes literally do dance. I've never seen eyes like them. And yes, this is for Peter Wingfield.

Kindred Spirits - This poem was written for my story "Kindred Spirits." When a character needs to spout creative words, one must provide... For Josette to recite to Methos... 10/98

Celtic Child

A mistaken turn brings me to your shore,; A chance happenstance-- perhaps,
Or a more serendipitous chore.

Yet here am I at your half-moon bay,
My soul made whole-- Gael,
that was once, here again today.

Behind me, Er Wyddfa rises to the sky,
Hawk’s nest, sun’s rest--Cresting
mountains I behold with ancient eye.
: Ah, Cymru, most ancient land of beauty,
A recognition tradition--Summons
this recycled soul homeward in duty.

Across the sea now I traverse those miles,
Green isle, blessed child--Ireland,
My heart cries out, ‘tis been a while.

My feet wander freely through magic glens,
With faery, wild berry--Unhurried
steps led only by soul of Celtic ken.

Speed northward to the stones of the giant,
At home, steps roam--Dancing
on water, links ancient and defiant.

New to me, these lands, yet old to my soul,
Unknown, still known-- Reborn
In my memory, Celtic child made whole.

Dancing Eyes

			By Lillian Wolfe                                                 

Eyes that dance, I’d often heard the expression,		 
But I’d never seen that particular movement.		
I’d seen eyes that laugh and a flicker of progression		
But not what I would call anything akin to fancy footwork.	

So it was just a term, a poetically neat phrase,		 
To describe an emotion or eyes that seem to sparkle,		
Eyes that glow with a laugh, a bright twinkle in the gaze,	
This, then, was how I had come to think of eyes that dance.	

Thru the years no eyes I saw altered that conception,		
Not chocolate browns with a glowing, sparkling hue,		
Nor brilliant blues alight with twinkling bright inflections,	
Or sultry grays that burned with smoky smoldering flames.	

Until the day I gazed into eyes with hazel magic,		
And watched warm green lights and swirls and flashes	
Dance amid bright amber flakes to silent merry music,	 
Dancing eyes beyond a doubt, that held my mind entranced.	

His eyes teased and laughed and caught my heart,		
Dancing eyes like none I’d ever seen before or since,		
Speaking of more than mere words could even start to say	
If words were capable to phrase that eloquent, silent tongue.	

Other worldly seems the man, dark, tall and willow slim,	
With spirit and soul to captivate, cajole and charm,		
But in those eyes that dance was the very essence of him,	
Lucent elf illusion lingering like dust in my captive heart.	

For Peter
Who has the most amazing eyes -- 01/98

Kindred Spirits
By Lillian Wolfe

We're kindred spirits, you and I…
Finding life like unwanted kittens here,
Though many fleeting years elapsed
Between the moments of your birth and mine.
Alike our hearts beat wildly to the drums,
As raging storms of passion soar,
With flowing memory of distant time.
We're kindred spirits, you and I…

In the sound of swiftly pounding surf,
Or in the forest-soft blanket damp,
Speak the patterns of life's rhyme.
Gentle touch to soothe the raging flames
Where anger, hurt and distrust grow,
And to crush it down to robust wine.
We're kindred spirits, you and I…

We've suffered and we've been lost,
Seen life's spark snuff out, quick death,
Or waste like sweet berries on a vine.
We've raged against the god of men,
Weeping child-like at the storm,
Still praying for one affirming sign.
We're kindred spirits, you and I…

Yet could I reach inside your soul,
And quickly pluck your spirit there
To draw it forth and let it shine,
Would it dance to know the light,
Or huddle shivering in dark fear
Like a captive sparrow upon a line?
We're kindred spirits, you and I…

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