Tuesday, October 11, 2005


Fire start nights, the mystery of not
Being somewhere you know –
Water creatures on the shore of wet
Banking into a turn at the speed of air.

Flashing silver rain,
Moonlight in the fountain,
Pale yellow eyes with black dots,
Stretched along the skin of the water,

Watching, waiting, serene
As pomegranates fall from the sky
filling pools of red juice around cobbles
making the night urgent.

Making stone beat feet hard and fast.
Making the woman of the dry ask “What’s your hurry?”


Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Really love the suspense and colours, beautiful poem.

blogogiste at it again now my link to your page tells me I can't view it so had to go round the houses to get here. grrr

Russell Ragsdale said...

Sue, you are a master at those elements so this praise is wonderful indeed!

What is going on with Blogger, BTW (by the way)? I've been having lots of trouble myself lately!

gulnaz said...

i don't know how to even compliment this one, loved the beauty in it!!

. : A : . said...

Very good use of imagery in this one.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Gulnaz! The rich images are thanks to a vivid story told on elkenara's site. I'll be putting up a link soon. It is a really great site. Check it out!

Russell Ragsdale said...

Hi .:A:.! Great to see you again! Glad you enjoyed this. the story it came from was loaded with some very moving imagery, so I am deply indebted!

Cocaine Jesus said...

Such elegant images and so richly conveyed.
I agree with Sue about the use of colours too.
As for the pesky blogsite ARRRGGHH!!

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks CJ! I really enjoyed writing this poem. So glad it pleased you my friend!