The Fire

Relaxing and watching the fire,
Patiently calming desire,
Easing all strife,
Contented in life,
And problems all seem very far.

© 033105 Petit Poet

Haunting Forest

Haunting forest, deep and green,
Bed of needles, wet with rain,
Musky odors, sounds unseen,
Fill our senses like a dream.

© 033005 Petit Poet

Good-Bye

Hurrying, with faces crimson,
Sweating from the rising tension,
Fidgeting, becoming nervous,
Fearing we will miss our bus,
Knowing life won’t wait for us.

Friends around us, smiling, crying,
Holding, hugging, shrugging, sighing,
Letting go with heads held high,
An outstretched wave, and then, “Good-bye”,
Knowing it’s our last, “Good-bye,”
A new adventure now is nigh.

© 032805 Petit Poet

Chalice of Life

Come drink your fill from the chalice of life,
Let this nectar relieve you when weary from strife,
Let this cup give relief from your terrible thirst,
And revive your delight with its life-giving burst.

© 092203 Petit Poet

Renewal

Slowly now the tangled past begins
To loose it’s unrelenting grip on you,
Silently Love’s essence sweetens life,
And takes you in It’s arms and gives you joy.

© 030305 Petit Poet

On Pushkin's "Onegin"

Thoughts on “Eugene Onegin” by Alexander Pushkin (1833)

“There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.”
- William Shakespeare.
Brutus, in Julius Caesar, act 4, sc. 2, l. (1623).

I read again Eugene Onegin,
Though not in its native tongue,
(I read a really good translation,
James Fallen, Oxford Press, the one).

Here Pushkin tells with deep concern,
That as we journey through our life,
As Shakespeare told us, we must learn,
To follow Fate or endure strife.

I love the flow of Pushkin’s verses,
Love the thoughts with which they’re filled,
The rhythm of his words and phrases,
Fills me with a happy lilt.

He writes of youthful joys and sorrows,
Pain and happiness alike,
Portraying both with depth he borrowed,
From observing truth and life.

His story, told with such precision,
Of the woes of searching youth,
Who fail to see that Fate’s decisions
Guide them to their happy truth.

This is his most important message,
Fate will guide us to our goal,
Of joy and peace and happiness,
If we submit to Him our will.

And yet one part of Pushkin’s writing,
I perceive as fatal flaw,
His focus more on pain and suffering
Than we have in life we know.

What morbid need did he perceive
To have Onegin kill his friend?
Such is not life and easily
Could be avoided in the end.

His story would be better told
If it had more reflected life,
Could still have taught us lessons old,
Could still have shown the hurt and strife.

So in the end I’m left with sadness,
When uplifted I would feel,
I’d rather have been left with gladness,
Guided to a life ideal.

Yet still I understand his motive,
As in life, his willful youth,
Did not accept gifts they were given,
Not knowing universal truth.

And so they suffered, suffered dearly,
Suffered pain their whole lives through,
(Or died too young!) Not knowing clearly,
From their errors pains accrue.

So let’s not do as Pushkin does,
But let us all learn from this Bard,
Accept the place that Fate may lead us,
Live a life that’s truly charmed.

© 100103 Petit Poet

Arms of Love

Silently, no words to say,
Her window showed her winter’s gray,
She longed to feel strong arms of love,
Her body safe, wrapped in his glove,
She prayed for him to Heaven above.

© 090903 Petit Poet

Master's Fire

Somber tune, pensive mood,
Eyes of quiet solitude,
Yet heedful of her master’s fire,
Attentive to his deep desire.

© 091103 Petit Poet

Heaven

You are now within the
Heavenly palace of forgetfulness,
Where heartaches end,
And only infinite love remains.

© 091003 Petit Poet

Shooting Star

Like a shooting star in the midnight sky,
Her flame glows brilliantly but brief;
But I desire a mystic dimension --
Soft feelings, quiet moonlight, lasting love.

© 103003 Petit Poet

Autumn Romance

Autumn romance
Stirring visions of
Long soft kisses,
Warm hands,
Breathless desire,
Thrill of passion,
Hearts pounding,
Lost in love,
Lost in you.

© 102203 Petit Poet

Light

I am the sun and moon and stars,
My heavenly Light
Touches life and love,
Hopes and dreams;
Nothing is beyond the power of my gentle Rays;
Patiently I wait for your strife to end,
And your laughter to return.

© 092403 Petit Poet

Marble Goddesses

Expressionless marble goddesses,
Diaphanous clothing clinging to
The perfection of their Praxitelean bodies
In tribute to their ideal lives.

© 102103 Petit Poet

Golden Mask

Her beauty is a golden mask
And by its surface does entice
All those e’er glamour does suffice.

© 100703 Petit Poet

Grandmother's Hands

Remembered glimpses, gnarled hands,
Kneading dough for yeast bread rolls,
Cinnamon cookies, fresh-baked aroma,
Embroidering quilts, earth garden, love.

© 090503 Petit Poet