Poetry of Caylee Halle
Dedagin Andagin last edited by
I never thought to post these here till today. But I guess they qualify as art
And yes I am fond of the Sestina format.
! > _> Sestina For Calia
Blonde hair softly frames her face
She speaks softly of peace, of Eldaths Grace.
I offer her my sword and shield,
She declines and wanders far afield.
My heart yearns for her acceptance.
Or, at the end of the day, at least a glance.
My heart beats so at a simple glance
from her, and a flush rises on my face
it is with reluctant acceptance
I wait for her, and little grace.
I wait as she hunts a watershed far afield
without my sword at her side, nor my shield.
It's been a week and I search for her afield
Sparing for the guards a wary glance
As I pass the gates, holding high my sword, my shield
I long to see her, to kiss her face
and fill us both with Sunes sweet Grace
Empty armed and lonely heart, I return. acceptance
Eludes me! acceptance
Be damned! she wanders afield
and I am lost without the grace
Of her presence. I glance
In the Hells, in her room, for a glimpse of her face
I bash my sword against my shield
And howl my frustration into the night. Later I polish my shield
And clean my armor, a weary acceptance
of things at face
value, as if my feelings themselves have wandered afield
and returned, exhausted from the trip. A glance
at a burning candle, nearly spent, and I stop, and pray for Sunes Love and Grace
To warm me in a night with empty arms. Grace
and Love to be my shield
against the unwanted wayward glance
Of unsolicited suitors. Acceptance
of my fate is hard to achieve, as she wanders afield
In search of the perfect watershed. I miss her, and long to see her Face
Face your your desires, and search with grace
afield, let love be your shield
Glance neither left nor right, and pray you can find acceptance._
! For Cuthaniel Rooks, Obviously
! >! @Dedagin:
! > _> Sestina For The Archer
The Archer pierced my heart the first time that we met.
she stood proud and tall against friend and foe alike.
I stood mouth agape.
at her fierceness and her beauty,
in defense of that horrid beast.
I’d walk through fire for her I thought as she made her stand.
She said she had a date, I could barely stand
The thought. From the moment we met
my desire for her fought against the restraints I placed like a beast
in a cage. My vows and my desire alike
warred within me, to protect and promote love, passion and beauty
and I helped her prepare, a willing slave to agape.
She tried on the gown, dressing room door agape.
It was all I could do to not stand
and stare. The Archer embodied two of Sunes domains, Love and Beauty
and Passion engulfed me, more than with any other I’d yet met.
Id not have chosen the color she did, our tastes are not alike.
But the style? the style made my heart pound a raging beast
In my chest. The beast
would not be still, I gulped and stood, mouth agape
trembling , trembling quite alike
the leaves on a tree in the breeze. How did I stand
to let her go, not telling her how I’ve felt since we met?
She is such a beautiful spirit, and a physical beauty
as well. Her beauty
would calm a beast,
and perhaps created one when we met.
She lost her love in a duel, and all I could do was stare mouth agape
at the news I could not stand
to see her anguish, and I could not show her mine, so alike
was our loss, and not alike
as well. Her love was a different kind of beauty
Fierce in her desire to protect,a dragon, she made a stand
and fell to the beast.
I offered compassion, agape
in my heart despair in my soul, i wish the Dragon and the Beast had never met.
Met a lovely archer, we are not alike
Agape love in my heart, cries the beauty,
“beast, you killed my love, empty soul,alone I stand._
! For Caylee
! >! @Dedagin:
! > _> Lonely Sunite
Troubled she tosses and turns, she cannot sleep
Though long since the man had left her alone in the night
Why didn’t anyone tell her this would be a Lonely
thankless job. The life of a Sunite
Sometimes leaves her so empty
Inside, especially awake alone in a stranger's bed.
With every movement she makes the bed
creaks, a mocking sound so that sleep
eludes her, tantalizingly close yet unreachable. empty
arms on a dark and empty night
that held such promise. The Sunite
stares at the ceiling shedding a lonely
tear that falls from her eye, and rolls down her cheek. Lonely
she climbs from the bed
and paces the room, a Sunite
Prayer on her lips quietly asking for a blessing of sleep.
Old already the night grows older, no rest on this night.
She makes a cup of tea, and drinks it empty.
Oh! heavens above she felt so empty.
and hells below she felt so lonely.
On a quiet and seemingly endless night
She climbs back into the strangers bed
and still she cannot sleep.
Poor lonely Sunite.
The life and devotions of a Sunite
Priestess are not supposed to leave one empty
armed and cause one to sleep,
alone and lonely,
in an empty bed
on a dark empty night.
No at night
is when a Sunite
should never be in an empty bed.
Her arms should never be empty.
Thoughts of lonely empty night
should not rob her of her sleep.
Empty Arms on an Empty Night
Lonely wept the Sunite
sleep claims her , duty filled, in a stranger's bed._