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 Winter (parts 1 - 15)  (2 ratings)by Stephen W. Cote Winter (part 1): A Sorceror's Reflection Outside, all is pristine, From cobalt skies of charcoal unity Descending upon snow canvassed green To silver veins of icy sheens, Born of spells and sorcery. Inside hearts and hearths and homes, Ochre embers and ebon cinders, Faded life stirred by motherly crones, Dry damp clothes and warm cold bones And illuminate the age-old spellbound tomes. Winter (part 2): The Ranger's Lament Nothing ever gives but we seek it anyway Nothing relents, it never stops, though we pray Nothing's so bleak as winter's bitter sunray Nothing is left of a dream when winter fades away And I know, yes I know, nothing remains Of the forests I have tried to save, nothing will remain Nothing will love you, deep down you're alone Nothing's above you, only shadow where the sun shone Something's amiss, the winter has cracked the stones Something's forgotten, someone died you've never known And I know, yes I know, nothing remains Of a love I meant to marry, nothing will remain Nothing so cold as winter lets you stay warm inside Nothing's left of love when the winter has embraced your bride Nothing will grow, anything you plant will die My forests, oh my forests, this white nothing has taken your life And I know, yes I know, nothing remains Of the life I meant to find, nothing will remain. Winter (part 3): The Ranger's Goodbye The last three words from your lips Before your last goodnight kiss Were three words I'll remember for all time I love you But now you're asleep and I'm alone There's only work, the forest is my home Where I find my heart reminds me That I love you But lady I won't cry If I can't remember your face I've spent too many years Of living in this winter on my own The dreams that come true for me Are only fantasies I can't feel or see And I just think about all our good times When I loved you But lady I won't die Though I'm not living in your grace I've spent too many years Of warming from the cold on my own And in the dark, I'll say When the fish eyed dreams left that day I once loved you, for all time - But it's dark And it's cold My heart is growing old The promises we made died with you I can't love you Winter (part 4): A Priest's Reflection The crows circle in columns, Black birds belying creamy clouds. They forget the fawn fog In all it's bichrome blaze, Or the crystalline cannonade Of a million meandering muted maculations, And behind the glorious glacial gasconade Were the forgotten prayers for spells. Several squirrels scampering in the squalor, Frolicking far from home, Rhythmically raised ruby receptors, Lethargically lactating on leaves and listening To the tumultuous tyranny's timbre Of sugar showering the millennium's macabre, Dreamless to the discovery of the Doppler din And lost in those sounds were the prayers for spells. And a soldier's spouse spoiled the scallywag, Raised him to the rickety rocker to remind him Of silly stories she should have shared If work hadn't worn her will and weathered her worth. They lunched on lentils and a little lemon, A solitary source of sour sustenance, And when she suffers and slumbers in the silence I'll whisper for them my prayers for spells. Winter (part 5): The Knight's Brigade (part 1) Leading commands urged fools to folly 'Cover the archers', 'Defend the Rangers', 'Dispatch the knights and charge!' Pungent covenants pledged in dire death cries 'Corporal of the Guard, I don't want to die.' The ranger's arrows flared and twanged Priests and mothers clasped hands and sang Knights and soldiers battled and bled The dogs of war fed on the dead Haunting pleas of mercy and salvation 'I'm dying,' 'I'm freezing,' 'Tell my wife I love her.' Voices blossom in bloody steam and ice 'Corporal of the Guard, would you try to kill us twice?' Winter (part 6): The Knight's Brigade (part 2) Will you let your words be a whisper? Let the nobles chain us to the floor? I'm dying, I'm dying, I won't live anymore. Do you sing your songs in silence? Or rumble rebel raves in their ears? I'm dying, I'm dying, Winter is here. Tell my wife I love her, Tell them I have been saved I've missed my chance for nobility I'll die in the pauper's grave Are they dead my friends of battle? Is that death in the chill out here? I'm dying, I'm dying, I'll try to have no fear. Tell my children to be strong, Tell them I'm now in Heaven, I gave my life so that they could live, I was killed by the winter wind. Is that darkness that creeps before me? Is that coldness that seeps in my bones? I'm dying, I'm dying, all I am now is dead. Winter (part 7): The Winter Wizard Is this winter beyond control? Juxtaposed - between prayer and spell. Is it love they're dying for? Drunk from an orthodox breast, They were lay to rest, Mouths full of God. Making love, hegemonic breast in hand, Biblical mammary - but the milk goes bad. Will your love embrace all men? After kissing the words, Will your faith still stand, Or did you make it up to get into bed? Was this spell a prayer for all? Omnipotent - the knowledge may damn them all. Will blissful ignorance answer prayers? You won't know who is there, Hold the verse in the air, But can't read the songs. Children distilled in reverent regard No renaissance - the priests burned the word. Is ignorance the lesson taught? Eden's apple in their pipe, But their lives were tripe, Emaciated from the words of God. Is the world really starved for prayer? The Adventists - think they know what's there. Will they kill what doesn't rhyme? With God and Christ, Eden's apple in their pipe, The Winter Seal won't close this time. Winter (part 8): The Knight's Brigade (part 3) Is that light that fights the darkness? Is the warmth pushing back the cold? Am I still dying? Is this dying? Or will I live a little more? Did Heaven hear my prayers to Jesus? Is God really at my side? Am I dying? Is this dying? Or am I really alive. Pass my a crucifix and my bible I can kneel and pray a little more I know that I am not holy But spare my family this horror. Is that my Savior standing before me? Who has told me to write these words? Am I praying? Is this praying? This is the light of God. Listen all of you and hear me! God has told me we must learn his words! He will save us! He will save us! We've found God again today! Winter (part 9): A Soldier's Wife (part 1) The winter has left me just a pint and a dream Stumbling down slick cobblestone streets The farmers yield no wheat or cream Wasted lives living on the snow at our feet Our palsied minds bask in our sins Priests stow their wares and leave The paupers' wives have slain their last hens Feed the young the tears they grieve In the gray haze of dusk, fog and cold Soldiers' wives drone to a somber dance Waking dead of heart, head and soul Wishing for a fairytale romance White stallions whisk us away to new lands And princes shower us with gems Dressed in silk with gold rings on our hands Handmaidens kiss our hems But the cobbled road ends too soon A soldier's wife guilty by chance I once danced and loved, sang and swooned Now only have a fairytale romance Winter (part 10): A Soldier's Wife (part 2) Do I weep for this winter war? A reverie - I'll love no more. What will be of our fairytale romance? Lived through a broken heart Survived love torn apart Our lives litter the floor. Do we honor promises sealed in a kiss? Waxy chaff - feelings we sometimes miss. What's a widow to the world? Children die in their own wars Respectable friends lock doors My life elapsed with his death. Will these tears damn my soul? Lucifer laughs - my bones are chilled and old. Is my husband really dead? The winter war still runs The fighting has only begun All I have are fairytale romances in my head. Winter (part 11): Winter's Darkest Hour On the wings of a cloud Fresh, crystal-blue elation - whimsical ecstacy Nerve endings tingle - romantic fantasy Newborn breeze blowing down, down, down Phantasmagoric spears of sunlight pierce the ground Cold, precision war engines march in tune Steaming crimson-tinctured life - sodium sanity Battling, bleeding and believing - mortal comedy Baths of sunlight start to shine, shine shine Spring whistles a tune On the wings of a cloud Under spring leaves of the trees Golden, silk-green blankets - fairytale romance Love kisses and tickles - salvation at last Impregnating pine needles swirl around, round, round Mortal memories and dreams fertilize the ground Heartless, inhuman corporals call cadence Priests pass last penance - forked-tongued forgiveness Historical ink splatters - glory's righteousness Fallen widowers remind their wives to live, live, live Spring muses a cadence Under spring leaves of the trees On the wings of a cloud Prismatic, rainbow-laden mist - Heavenly vision Spines shiver and shim - exodus mission Fading lives murmer save, save, save When rigor clutches our hearts we know we're in the grave The sole white dove flies overhead Grisly, shattered remains - aching breaths Steepled hands praying - final requests Our last three words are 'I', 'Love', and 'You' Spring makes its peace with the dead On the wings of a cloud Winter (part 12): The Ranger's Recover Something stark stirred next to me While sleeping deep and dreaming. It had ivory skin and a feather soft grace A billion lives scrimshawed on its face. It touched me in a magic friendship, It loved me like a vow married our lips. Its curves were slight and human Its kiss beyond the mortal passion of a woman. Her words were whispered in a strange tongue And I understood my life had not begun. She lead me to the meadow of souls Where my wife was buried and I had first grown old. In a moon beam on that winter night I glimpsed the naked angel in the pale light. She smiled and then kissed me goodbye, She reminded me that I had not yet died. Something hot and naked roared in my chest I had loved an angel but now faced the test. The forest was bare of the life once there It was now in my power to show it that I cared. A naked angel had infected my soul Her ivory skin and kiss saved me from the cold. The last three words from your lips, before your very last kiss Were three words that meant everything, I love you. Winter (part 13): The Priest Repents This time, I know, The black bird may not show, No white doves will fly to freedom, Nothing grows. But dance, and sing, The Lord, Our God, is listening, We've walked a dark path of temptation, Let repentance ring. Drop the bow, and sword, We were never meant to fight this war. It was a test, and we failed, Praise the Lord. This winter must end, Could it be a lifelong friend, Questioned his faith, challenged God? My brother. Repent and pray, We've discovered God again today, Well stop this war with winter, We can still be saved. This time, I know, We've been wrong until moments ago, I prayed for a spell of repentance, And now I know. Winter (part 14): Winter's End Was it love I was searching for? Romantic thoughts - when she stole my soul Do we forgive the horrors? Religious lactate fed to my child, It can't feed us all, It's the wizard that'll take the fall. Must my crystal cannonade still fall? A metaphor - death embraces us all. Will they fight until the end? Take a fall, and do it again? My spellbound winter my last friend, Was education worth a million men? Children, children once laughed and played, Ludicrous - they play for a kiss and a lay. Is Eden's apple their compromise? From the orthodox breast, Through the Lord's final test, Does death no longer frighten them? The sluing serpent warned us once, Medieval macabre - our minds ensconced. Candlesticks and pitchforks preside the mob. It's not God's job, Writhing worms devour us all, What awaits beyond the tower wall? Will my chosen death be too late? Proverbial - to save empty fates. Will you forgive my burning need? To question my faith, And educate your race. I pray your ignorance saves you in the end! Winter (part 15): Rebirth Inside hearts and hearths and homes, Saffron spruce and kindled embers, Renewed life fueled by the young and old, Bake the bread and heal broken bones, And illuminate the verse in ancient Biblical tomes. Outside, the last meandering maculations careen, From august skies of Heavenly glory, Liquefying into rivers, yielding meadows of green, To rainbow streaks in misty scenes, Born of love and religious creed.
Copyright © 2002 Stephen W. Cote, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines |
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