BIRD OF SAPPHIRE-FIRE

Symphony within my heart;
flute-flutters of small, blue wings.

Joy is a bird of sapphire-fire
alight on a winter branch; barren-brown.

Tender warbles pierce the sunless;
yet, the golden-glorious cascades down.

Only the spirit can ever know  
the ecstatic trumpeting when joy blows.

Alice Parris

Photography by Stony River/AU

THIS MORTAL COIL

 

Royal blue &
translucent gold do await my soon return.

I  go to where there are no bones arotting.

Do not cry for me;
I am kept in the bosom of a holy dove.

Lo, these many years, 
my hands have been stretched upwards.

Abundant joy &
immaculent breezes are my preferred portion.

Blue-midnight,
angelic visitations steer my many night-visions.

This mortal coil is
but my chrysalis; gossamar wings wait for me.

The last mile is truly bloody virtue-Via Dolorosa.
 

 Alice Parris

Photography by Stony River/AU

HOWLING STORM

Magnolia-crows

dart through mosses.

Their ominous sounds

muffled by foliage.

How long is long

enough?

Is it the will

that holds us to

our paltry portion?

Is it purpose

that makes us swim

upstream?

Is it destiny

that declares us

sole survivor?

Why do we cling

so tightly to

aging shells?

Fiery-mango passion

burned into wispy

pewter-ashes.

Shall we dine

on our memories

of  once-great love?

Shall we feed our

skeletons with fleeting

azure-lavender dawns,

coral-tangerine sunsets?

A weary leaf twists

in the  howling storm.
 

 

Alice Parris

HONEY EATERS

HONEY EATERS

Truth is simple.
It sustains mountains
pirouetting in time.

Yet, the grasping
for instant knowledge;
honey eaters slurping.

Volume does
not substance make.
Wisdom pierces
vessles that do speak.

Go to river’s edge;
stave off annihilation.

Stop wasting
on a hamster’s wheel.
Sisyphus -
an acrid enslavement.

Alice Parris

Photography by Stony River/AU

THE KINDREDS

THE KINDREDS

 

We walk together
at varying times,
 
varying degrees
of sun & shade.

 

We walk in these
places of darkness

 

& mist.

 

We stand together:
the kindreds.

 

 

Alice Parris
For Anna Donovan

 

 

Stony River photograph/AU

THE UNTOLD

                                                                                               

Deep waters and raging seas    Are within the sound of my  Voice departing upon the ether. Deep waters are a graveyard; Untold stories are buried there.       Alice Parris

LOVE HAS A FICKLE HEART

LOVE HAS A FICKLE HEART

Like all temporal things,
love can be fleeting…
Prepare for love, live within love,
let love linger…

Never throw love away.
It will be many days before
love will search for you again.
Always be the one who gives.

You will never become
bankrupt by giving: the more
you give love, the more you will
glean; if not this time, than the next.

If you are not ready for love,
say so. Do not waste another’s heart.
Do not be the dealer of heartbreak.
This is but a fool’s bet…

Some will find soulmates, some
will not. Do the best you can with
the hand that you have been dealt. 
Do not grieve for love;

love will not grieve for you.
Do not waste years in pursuit of
love. Love will tap on your shoulder
when you are looking away…

If there is no love within your
heart, then show kindness, which
will never be lost: that which we
give away will live forever.

Man’s love has a fickle heart.

 
Alice Parris

CARRY ME

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carry me Over fields of clover. Carry me Over cliffs of Dover. Carry me to dandelion fields. Carry me to the heartland yields. Carry me From sea to sea. Carry me, carry me…     Alice Parris

THE HOURGLASS

A large, impressive, cherry wood desk sat beneath the tiny hourglass which was to be my life.
An antigue hourglass with its intriquitely detailed top and

bottom was precise in its meting out of what was to be the granules of life allotted to me.
I preened while the first half of the passing sand poured down

into its unobtrusively-waiting receptacle.
I postured while another fourth of
the sand poured down in meticulous precision.
I, then, became obsessed with

the scanty fourth which passed continuously before me.
I toiled day and night to make a mark of truth upon deafening mankind.
In all of my many preenings

and posturings, I had discovered but one absolute truth: the only currency which would remain in the ever-moving, ever-indifferent sands of time would be a pure, simple, unfettered love: the true gold of a man’s life upon this earth.

Alice Parris

WHEN SOULMATES MEET

When soulmates meet It is as if a Force of nature Is taking place Pulling one Inextricably To the other. It is as if Nothing else Matters… But the pull Of the other soul When in the presence Of its perfect match. It is as if Time stands still When two souls Embrace That are one.There are no Words to describe What is happening When soulmates Are in each Other’s arms. Neither Circumstances, Propriety, Nor will power Can overrule The magnetic force That pulls these Souls together Once they meet.There is a pulling, A knitting together Of these two While heaven watches The celestial reunion. The angels rejoice: Divine intervention Has taken place In life and in Circumstances To bring these Two together… At last. Pulling these Two out of The arms of Another, Out of cities, Out of careers, Placing them, In each other’s arms, Is nothing less Than miraculous.Alice Parris