Ridgecatone

The flutter of tender wings stir the evening mist She circles twice above her nest,   Weary. Solitary. Whisper in the gloaming.   Darkness creeps like silent fog. Peace has kissed   Her eyelids with susurrations of rest, Home. Safe. Heart no longer roaming.   Cricket song calls out to winking star, Come shed your unearthly light, Hush. Repose. Time for slumber sweet.   Voice of the patient hunter calls out from afar To wake the denizens of the night.   Safe. Secure. She fears not stealthy feet.   Cocooned snugly in the pleasant warmth of home In ease she shuts her eyes,   Rest. Renew. All her labors done.   Her beating heart slows as sh

The river rolls on to the sea.   Morning breaks: orange, red,   Clouds arise and dissipate. The sun marches on, marking empty hours, And the river rolls on to the sea.   Light fades from purple sky,   Robs the world of sight.   Stars glow soft in velvet folds Empty hearts are healed in sleep.   And the river rolls on to the sea. Planets wheel in their orbits, New trees spring from ash, As nests again are filled.   Tears annealed by new hope, And the river rolls on to the sea.   SWaldrop

Leaden grows the azure sky,   Soothing breeze now a gale.   Lone wisp of wafting crystal   in a blink looms dark, foreboding.   From one heartbeat to the next   a single drop becomes a deluge.   In fury breaks the storm.                                                                                         SWaldrop

    Grace grabbed the back of the seat, her eyes flying open as the car lurched. She was seated in the place of honor, perched on the trunk of the fancy new convertible with her legs in the back seat. Beside her, Hanna A. shot out a hand to steady her friend, concern filling her eyes. Something was wrong. Something more than the aftermath of the scene in the ballroom of the manor. Something was off about Grace; her reactions did not quite ring true. Her friend should have been smiling and waving at the people of Pecan Grove, basking in their adoration. Instead, her eyes kept darting to the huge stone structure on top of the hill, focused on w

    A pall lay heavy as a wet woolen blanket over the small valley, turning hearts and minds inward in retrospection. It was almost time. The invitation would arrive any day now and people eyed each other strangely as they passed in the street or stood in line at the local grocery store. Who would be summoned? Who would be chosen to spend the Valentine’s night at the imposing caste in the hills? Irony was as thick as the atmosphere of fear. Valentine’s Day, a day of love, but not for this town.      Grace, tall, with a tangle of wild brown hair that fell to her shoulders, leaned back in her chair and deftly sailed a folded triang

Flight of Fancy He winked with his eye And blew her a kiss, I’ll sail through the  skies In such wondrous bliss; These butterfly wings Shall bear me away To see magic things And return when it’s day. Tho dragons there be And dangers galore Such wonders I'll see: Fairies and more. Their wings bear me far On a magical breeze To follow a star That no one else sees.   I’ll dance with the sprites In a meadow of dew Bathed in soft lights And sing of love true. Your dreams I’ll adorn With songs for  you, dear, So don’t be forlorn And please have no fear. The morn will come soon So fear not the n