Poems by lysa

    kaleidoscope of colour

    swirling down from the trees

    laying a tapestry of brilliance

    crackling footfalls

    tiny explosions of sound

    linger in the glassy air

    Breath escaping in

    brief tendrils of fog

    your essence betrayed

    by your footsteps


    in a world of silence

    majestic boulders

    covered in moss

    time stands still

    frozen in stone

    like the smile

    in your eyes


    sage and wild thistles

    scattered across the hills

    streaks of purple in pale green

    the roots of your magic

    nestled in rustling strands

    of sun soaked sweet grass

    twilight echoes filter down

    tiny diamonds appear in the sky

    a wisp of sooty smoke

    wolves howling in the distance

    hugging your weathered memories

    immersed in your faith

    laced in the colours of the land


    midnight tappings

    fingertips dancing

    wires and chips

    transferring your thoughts

    across wide oceans

    wind battered cliffs

    vast desserts

    and forests of old

    past suburban sprawl

    into the the mind of another

    sleep, a rare thing

    the mind strives to compensate

    when surreal mists form

    the fabric of daily reality

    the barrier between

    night flights of fantasy

    and the flat plains of day



    no echoes linger

    in the corridors of lichen drenched trees

    The mossy carpet

    capturing our footsteps

    impressions held for a fleeting moment

    secrets kept

    time erased

    indigo silk

    your voice is

    slipping by

    an indigo breeze

    etched in this forest of memory


    edge of a memory


    from a tiny glass box

    filled with collections

    compressed with gravity

    and time

    It was just a momentary flicker

    that stayed with me for hours

    pressing matters veiled it

    subtle breeze in my mind

    slow motion

    soft exposure for seconds

    taunting me once more

    maybe it was a dream

    nothing more


    fire etched corridors

    singed and scorched

    the residues of old loves

    burned clean

    new fires

    gleaming clarity

    diffused with overwhelming light

    time deepens the warmth

    turning to burnished gold


    I remember the soft lines of your face

    your cognac eyes

    twinkling with mischief

    the tiny freckles

    like stars just before dusk.

    the faint essence of your scent

    the impression upon your lips

    a half circle fading fast

    left from the blue bottle of spatlese

    our laughter as the level dropped

    dear friend how many nights did we pass thus?


    tiny nymph bubbles of desire

    rapidly rising

    to the surface of this sun drenched cove

    framed in pearl crushed sand

    an ocean teal blue

    tide pools



    the surging passion

    the multi faceted desires

    silken water caressing every pore

    smooth stone warmed with contact

    heated with friction

    waves pounding the shoreline

    energy and release

    fluids exploding through

    softly lined crevices

    as nature mirrors nature


    who knows what your quiet facade masks

    the land you travel is a forest of words

    old trees that live for centuries

    roots expanding

    saplings that sprout from under the towering giants

    plains of sentences

    strung forever, broken only with dots scattered

    the canals you journey through

    fluid words streaming by

    you've traveled the world

    through the words of others

    lived a thousand adventures

    weeped for a thousand tragedies

    and reveled in a thousand victories

    seen the deeds of the mighty

    and the weak

    one day a heroine

    the next despised and forgotten

    only to be raised once more

    your horizons are boundless

    yet bounded by glue and leather

    pressed into paper

    all the world is yours

    with the turning of a page


    The cold air pressing against the glass

    begging entrance

    stealing the warmth of your fingertips

    as you trace the sliding beads

    of the pouring rain

    one more path

    one more drop

    perhaps with the next one

    your silent vigil will end


    your cathedral is a circle of trees

    golds diffused through leafy green

    form your windows

    earthy loam scents the air

    during the day

    a thousand birds sing your gospels

    at midnight mass

    a thousand crickets are your choir

    no doors in this house of nature

    shall ever exist


    sleek with midnight black fur

    upon the smooth bark

    basking in mid afternoon shade

    moving with liquid languid grace

    tawny golden eyes

    like pools of molten sun

    coercing you into the depths

    taunting you with indifference


    Yesterday I was a frog

    my lily pad and I

    surrounded by beloved clots of algae

    the murky deep green water so cool

    ever inviting it called

    for a brief swim did I indulge

    lazy strokes returned me to the surface

    much to my dismay

    my lily pad

    was taken away

    by such a cad


    I would be a not a rose

    but a calla lily

    distinct colouring

    strong bold lines

    clean sweeping expression

    subtle scent

    and elegant beauty

    but alas

    most of the time I am a daffodil


    delicate lines I spin

    stronger than steel

    I weave day and night

    in places hidden from the light

    patience is mine

    as I wait for you to enter

    your essence I slowly take

    leaving your husk

    a momento of our time together


    In the still air

    heated and shimmering

    through dessert sands

    I travel

    curved and sinuous is my path

    In this hostile place

    I feel peace

    undisturbed in my solitude


    tiny fairies

    their houses of mushrooms

    hidden underneath

    undulating fronds of green ferns

    iridescent bubbles

    their modes of transport abound

    merry threads of laughter

    lace the air

    impish grins and mischievous twinkling eyes

    flicker in the dappled light


    your tiny hands

    delicate fingers

    petite feet

    willowy figure

    hair of molten silver

    framing your pert nose

    violet eyes and rosebud lips

    does it cover your pointed ears?


    Cheshire cat grin

    laughing eyes

    wisdom of centuries


    the trade winds call

    my precious cargo of spice

    russet and saffron gold

    laden to the hull

    with sails unfurled

    to another land I seek

    what destiny lies in this journey

    I know not

    only that I am rare jewel

    glistening russet and saffron gold

    traveling Caribbean blue

    and prussian deep