Love Songs

Song of Songs

Love flashes like fire
the brightest kind of flame

Hearts melt to molten gold
transforming, reshaping
re-gilding the world.

Nature takes on its brightest hue
the song of songs plays just for you

Love is as strong as death
cannot be quenched
or drowned
by mighty rivers

A gift divine
for mutual pleasure
all fear dissolved
a glimpse
of heaven's treasure.

"O promise me not to awaken love
... before the time is right"

Lest my love, doth flee into the night!

Love Song

As you play
upon my heartstrings
my soul aches for thee
You close your eyes
and gently strum
while I sing the harmony.

Every time you take a breath
I take a breath with thee
My heart swells with the music
And it sets my spirit free.

Together we compose our song
A bright new symphony
until it reaches a crescendo
and then - you part from me.

Each heart beat pulses sadness
I feel, oh, so bereft!
As I strain to hear the echo
of the music that you left.

You are the creator
And I - an instrument for thee
Please pick me up, hold me close
And pluck me tenderly.

Amanda Edwards (c) 2013

O speckled thrush!

O speckled thrush
so cold, so stiff, so dead!

Your flame extinguished
a faded silhouette
a fly-blown curiosity

No glimmer of light
from your half- moon eye.

 Stark contrast
to that sparkling beaded lace
an ethereal throw
on nature’s bed

A sticky, intricate snare
where Death awaits
upon his secret tight rope

Wraps his victims tenderly in silk
then sucks out all life
leaves just an empty husk.

Is this your fate
O, speckled thrush
as you “push up the daisies?”
Heavens no!

You are surrounded by
innocent ‘Christ-children’ *
damp with early morning tears
mourning your death
yet rejoicing in the dawning
of a new day …

 

 And look … O look!

 

 

A tulip cup
ablaze with glory

Herald of spring and all
dappled, variegated things
toasts the heavens
feasts upon the rising sun
shouts out its certainty -

Your death, speckled thrush
Is Nature’s celebration
A new beginning ….
You have fulfilled your role
your purpose on earth

In God’s eternal, circle of life.

Mandy Edwards © 2013

 

 *daisies are known as ‘Christ children’ – with their innocence and purity and the word itself
is Old English for “day’s eye” – referring to the beginning of each day, illustrated by the daisy closing its petals in the evening, and the first to open at dawn to greet the day. It also has its debut in the spring.


Many thanks to my dear friend, Niki Palmer, who produced the gorgeous photos for this poem ... :)

Do you believe in faeries?

It begins with faeries.

I watch you shut your book
with a satisfying thud
and shout:
"I believe in faeries"

And I see God's smile
shimmer through the stardust

As the morning stars
sing together
and all the angels shout
for joy

You hug to yourself
a child-like certainty
that now, this very minute
another faery has been saved

Never lose
that sense of wonder

For you
everything is a miracle
there is nothing seen
or unseen
that you cannot believe

Faeries are like angels
invisible friends who
sparkle in the sunlight
dance and twirl like leaves

Little puffs of wind
playing in your hair
whispering
"Here I am, isn't life grand?"

They watch you play hopscotch
on the pavement
soothe ointment on your knees

Slowly release their breath
when you climb the tallest trees
nestle there
reach out to the clouds
And dream ...

A host of feathered angels
trill their secret messages
hop from branch to branch
watch over you
as you place one foot
carefully after another
and descend

Some angels
pile up freshly made scones
smothered in jam and cream
on your favourite plate
and watch you eat
so much in love with you

They read you endless stories
over and over
for they know you love to
feed your imagination
and can never get enough

Sometimes
when you least expect it
a furry angel jumps on to your lap
kneads you up and down
dribbles and purrs!

And did you know ...

A guardian angel
listens to your prayers at night
sends them heavenward
with a sprinkling of faery dust

Where God catches them
and smiles

While His angels shout for joy
and the night sky, shivers with delight.


Mandy Edwards (c) 2013











 

Search-light to my Soul

My words are a search-light
to my Soul
speaking my truth.

Sometimes they glow and shine
shaped by thoughts from others
long ago
yet deeply mine.

Some days my words glisten softly
like pale moonlight or distant stars
A silvery fish, darting out of shadows
dapples of half-light, reflecting
off its scales
flashes of truth from memory's past.

Some days my words burn bright
I cover my eyes in pain;
there is nowhere to hide.
I take another peek - aha!
Nothing to fear
Just light.

Some days the words won't come.
I shake my torch, bang it on the ground
So frustrated,
so disappointed.

Useless, empty thoughts
expose old wounds
that I'm not good enough
A lonely void haunts me
deep within

So then I seek Your Word
Your truth, your wisdom.
Love fills my heart
Rekindles that radiant spark
that threatens to glow cold.

And then I remember.
You have given me all I need
Gifted me
my salvation
All I must do, is believe.

"Faith need be only the size
of a mustard seed."

For you Father, are always here
holding my trembling hand.
As we switch on the light together
And reveal such beauty there.


Amanda Edwards (c) 2013

 

 

Forever Together

If we were together
could I lay my head upon your chest
and listen to your heart beat
Forever?

Would you brush away my tears
piece together
the fragments of my dreams
and chase away my fears?

If we were together
forever
would you keep me filled
to overflowing with your love
so my life was never wasted on despair?

If we cannot be together
ever
on this earth of ours
could you teach me
how to keep you in my heart
so I can feel you there

Forever?



Mandy Edwards (c) 2013

Let's magic the pain away

A wild eyed pony snuffles at the fence;

seks the half bitten carrot, held out
on a brave yet hesitant palm,
fingers curled around the offering....

A thud, a squeal of pain.

The child has fallen,
picks himself up with all the courage
of a little warrior,
huge accusing eyes examine the spot.

Tears glint on sunlit cheeks,
droplets of blood ooze from a graze
that reddens upon a once perfect canvas.
He holds up his arm for his mother to see.

She kisses the top of his curly head,
breathes her love into the soft peach of his skin,
‘tut tuts’ her sorrow, makes a great show
of examining the wound, declares her verdict.

"It needs a little magic,
shall we kiss the pain away?"

A little nod, a half smile.
She wipes away his tears with gentle fingers,
bends over the wound, kisses it tenderly,
one last embrace.

The sparkle returns to his dancing eyes;
all pain forgotten.
He picks up a stick, bashes it gleefully
upon the fence.


The pony throws up his head,
snorts in fear,
skitters to the end of the paddock.


The boy is cautioned
and a fleeting cloud threatens the sunshine
of his face.

A moment's indignant thought.

He places the stick beneath his gumboot;
stomps it into smaller and smaller pieces,
then smiles with joyous satisfaction.


Amanda Edwards © 2013

Memoirs of a reluctant shepherdess

“Go Back!”

A sheep sits huddled in a corner
of the paddock as the rain pelts down;
sinks low in the sodden grass
desperate to escape the all-seeing eye
of the working dog.


I yell in vain as Biddy rounds up the flock
turning them round and around,
this way, then that way - no closer to the gate
confused by my conflicting commands:

‘Go back. Go behind, No, No … Back,
Good dog, No, Let it go, Stay, Go round
No! For goodness sake, Go back!’

Pregnant ewes cough and pant as they
race like miniature ponies on the track;
but they “must be moved” and my heart
takes on a wild beat
as the sheep whirl faster and faster;

In despair, I scream at Biddy
with all my pent up frustration.

She looks at me in disbelief.
You sorry shepherdess you … have you no clue?
Just let me get on with it.
Stop shouting, pointing, cursing, running ….
You are no dog … let me be – I’ll do my job.

I wipe the muddied droplets from my eyes,
shrug in hopeful resignation, decide to trust;
trudge in squelching footsteps through the mud,
to coax the Stubborn One to her feet.

She sees me coming, tries to get away
but I discover she is nearly cast,
one leg half gone to sleep.
I roll her over, support her
as she sways from side to side;
relieves herself in one grateful stream
then staggers off towards the flock.

My dog comes running, her wild streak roused
the main mob forgotten, for here is One alone,
An easy prey, a chance to tease and torment,
In fear, I shout, “Leave it, leave it …go back.”

With some reluctance, Biddy returns
her flock now calm
pouring like cumulous clouds,
through the open gate.
I follow slowly
jogging this way and that,
to guide the prodigal one back to the fold;
then pat my collie’s head for a job complete.

Amanda Edwards © 2013