Poetry of Caylee Halle

  • 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.

    For Calia

    ! @Dedagin:
    ! > _> 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._

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