Whale Song: Poems

As I mentioned in the post yesterday, I decided to break the results of Tuesday’s poetry jam into two posts, comprised of several smaller poems each. We had so many great contributions, and it was fascinating to watch how the narrative direction would shift and change and adapt.

So here is Part 2. There are lines and sections here that are stunning. I’ll let you figure out which ones those are.

Whale Song: Poems

By @Doallas, @llbarkat, @RobinMArnold, @redclaydiaries, @lauraboggess, @poemsandprayers, @mxings, @shrinkingcamel, @TchrEric, @mhsteger, @gyoung9751 and @moondustwriter; prompted by @tspoetry; some inspiration by @lorrie58; and a smidgen of editing by @gyoung9751

Whale Song

If I were alone
with you
playing upon
whale’s fountain
surfing salt air,
I could lose sight
of shore, shallows, depths,
the whole world.

Returning
from the interruption
of life,
word-water lifts
from spout.
Long sighhhh,
for it takes a lot for a
whale to sigh.

Whale
in such deep water
wondered at a world
of swan and mole,
of dragonfly and earthworm,
odd friends
but friends still,
and camels
wandering through trees.
And the friendship is
sung in the whale song.
What kind of things are these
but friends?

Whale song,
tender as morning light,
echoes the siren’s lament,
aliens
at home
in ocean’s Eden.
Siren on whale’s back
brings her song
together beached
beneath sky and arc of stars.

The Albatross

Albatross draped
upon my neck,
I toil like an ant
pitched against
the night.
Come, please come,
nothing more to say;
come, see
and flew away.
A sound of little feet,
birds walking bearing cream of ice,
gathering quickly shell and seaweed
mix with salt tears
pat round as moon
and offer in friendship,
Gathering crumbs
of moon cakes
for hippo
yet not appeared.

The Whale’s Seashell

You hold the seashell
I found
half buried in the sand,
to my four year old ear
and teach me to dream.
Cream of waves,
frothed and churned,
sent back to shore
to wash away
remaining scent.

If I were a siren
and you alone
could hear my song,
would you dance
ith me, drench me,
take my arm beneath
salt white moon,
leave this crumb trail to
find the way
back home?

Teach me
frothed love,
loud-sipped
through straw,
striped pink
That we might
trip through
gentle waves
and sit upon the shore
and eat moon cakes the night long.

Riding the Whale

If I were a black bird,
would you hear my song
and fall open-armed to sky,
fingertip to starlight
moon-bathing fools?
A child amidst us,
shell to ear,
brings us to dreaming,
dreaming of promises
held in stars
and songs of sirens
riding whale backs
and gentle waves
that lull to sleep.

The Dance to the Whale’s Song

It is the dance on the sand,
the dance to the song of the whale.
No one, I tell
You, no
one has ever
danced like this
before, salt-flecked
algae purpled
upon this sand.
The child
it was
who taught the dance,
song echoing from deep
within the shell,
did move us,
send us high
into a sky of glisten,
a sky ink-blue
where each wanders
as a star,
pointing to a dream
come true.

Hearing the song,
they all got up
and tapped their toes.
If time could stop,
I would want it
to halt right here
at the water’s edge,
where your shadow
is kissing the sea.

Whale Dream

Dream of whale,
of shark
of swan so white,
tiniest ant,
glowing earthworm,
each his own star.
A dream not knowing where it goes
Moonlight,
Sea
and stars,
what dreams are made of,
held close
held deep,
unfathomable
as time.

Moon’s light
finds you
and where you are,
so are we. It’s enough
to be
poor old dragonfly. Said the black bird,
Dreams are made of whale’s songs,
dragonfly wings, stars and
iced cakes.

Hide out,
Hide not,
there is a star that
holds your promise.
Look to the light
and be.
I would like to keep my
wings, dragonfly said.
I like to fly.

Whale Sleep

My worth,
like pink coral,
scrapes against
your soul, asking
can you feel me,
swaying, bubbling
in dreams.
Enough is enough.
You mean…I can be…me?
“said the blackbird”
as he longingly eyed
lunch.

His scent
forever lingers
in our memory
of a night
on a beach,
dancing
in the moon’s light,
the stars’ light.
I shall not dine on
the dragon fly, but
we shall eat cake!

Nothing is more
beautiful than dragon’s
wings, shimmering
in sunlight.
it will take
another siren’s song
for dragonfly.

Behind the leaf
of a bush,
I searched for you,
slipped silent past
your heart
to breathe
goodnight,
goodnight like the dragonfly,
goodnight.

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