The Hunting Horn*
Sound the horn,
hail the hounds,
the hunt is underway.
Sound the horn, hail, hail,
a herald to the horses,
the hunt is underway.
Hear the mystical horn
drift and carry, horses thunder, hounds bay.
Hear the sonorous horn,
wild, royal, signal of morn.
Listen to the hunting horn
ride the wind to call the day.
Hail, hail, the hunt is underway.
Horicon Marsh*
Chicory blue sky at the edges
Arcing up to a Bluebell vault.
A background of bird calls and wind
Hints at the expanse within.
A hidden habitat explored
Via a glittering trail
Bordered by Black Willow and Cottonwood
Amongst endless cat tails.
Quick glimpses of swallows, blackbirds, and waxwings
With flyovers by herons, cormorants, and pelicans.
Each an ambassador
Of how many, one can only wonder.
Cleopatra VII (69 BCE - 30 BCE)*
Pearls for diamonds
Pharaohs for kings
Isis for Athena and Aphrodite
A world away,
The rest held in awe and sway.
Where cats reign supreme
Surpassed only by the Goddess Queen.
And still we search over 2,000 years
For her hopes and dreams and thoughts and fears.
Traded Places; Traded Views*
The sunset glazed
A plum pink cast
On Lake Michigan
Under a water blue sky
Paisleyed with coral cloud.
Each became the other,
Illuminated, majestic
And then back again.
Sky and Lake Michigan,
Lake Michigan and sky.
-- Poem and painting first published in the Blue Heron Review, Issue 2 Summer/2014
www.blueheronreview.com
Modern Mermaid
When manatees were mermaids,
Mermaids were once
Iridescent and mysterious,
A haunting wisp of sea-tale.
But manatees were found,
And our ancient mermaid lost.
No more shining mystery,
Or silken hair, or sparkle fish tail.
How about then a modern mermaid?
Liaison in place of siren
With bronzed hair and a dolphin tail,
Or a soothing voice, or wild white wings -
Or whatever it takes to touch base
And bridge space.
-- Poem published in the "5th Year Anniversary Bards Against Hunger Anthology" by Local Gems Press, NY, 2017.
*Indicates associated painting in the Art Portfolio.
Underground Railroad*
Hidden away underground,
Essentially held tied and bound.
Silenced, threatened, invisible.
Wait - dreamers are dancers, improvising.
Mental pirouettes and plies
Allow escape to arabesque days.
Hope is a powerful choreographer
Staging scenes for a future dance,
Crafting encores from risk and chance.
Hidden away underground,
But the mind really not
Tied and bound.
.
Kindred
A pearl sheen moon
low in dusky pink,
glazing mountain layers.
Owl swoops, silent,
on cambered wings.
Sunset cloud radiance,
Panther Peak to Safford span.
Royal pink streaks and shafts,
purple and gold spread and splashed.
High moon and Mars
in pas de deux, arc cadence.
All one evening interlaced.
Individualism alone—a myth shown.
The world’s strands are goddess braided.
- Poem published in "Offerrings of Compassion'" Blue Heron Review, Issue 13, Fall 2021.
History*
How is yesterday remembered?
A thought written down,
An image captured,
A stanza replayed.
A Rosetta Scroll for memory.
"Once upon a time, when people still believed in magic, they gave their art to the ages. Later ages study those arts to see back in time as if by magic."
-Translation of Phoenician script from Rosetta Scroll, oil painting.
Certain arts endure.
Left; behind or because?
A record, a story, a message?
So then ancient yesterdays are interpreted for remembrance.
Our way to "know" a people.
Our history or theirs?
Ocean Vision*
At the beach,
I run and play and splash
And carry-on,
But you would notice that
In amongst it all,
I spend a lot of time
Looking out at sea,
Scanning the horizon,
Staring at nothing
That you can see.
I could be watching for a ship,
Or just marveling at the ocean,
But it's so much more than that.
You see, way out there,
Under that seagull
About twenty feet down,
There are a couple of dolphins
Swimming playfully.
And way over there,
Under that wave
Down at the bottom,
There's a sunken galleon
With hidden treasure.
And all the way out there,
On the horizon
Under that cloud,
There's a blue whale
Resting peacefully.
Prove to me there isn't.
True Ghost
Envision a floating apparition
Gliding along a paneled hall.
With only candles to see by,
Black lace traced silhouettes
Tango on the wooden wall.
Envision an ebony mourning dress
And black lace mantilla
Streaming over raven satin hair.
Black lace traced silhouettes
Tango on a wooden chair.
Only candles to see by,
But if seen by enough of you,
Then those lace traced silhouettes
And that gossamer ghost
Become true.
-- Poem published in "13 Days of Halloween Spooky Fiction and Poetry, 2018 Edition" by Local Gems Press, NY, 2018.
Taawa (Native American, Hopi) = Sun
Living from October
Wood, hide, adobe walls
Respecting different gods
Harboring similar hopes.
Content eyes until
The unknown of foreign ways slips.
Certainty comes
Igniting ancient eyes.
Experience blends and
Eyes start to see
Why snow falls.
But a fierce fire
Burning with potential
Still smolders.
Winter came quickly
And lasted long,
But heat with time
Gradually melts snow and ice.
If not to summer,
At least to a spring.
-- Poem published in "Poets to Come, A Poetry Anthology in Celebration of Walt Whitman's Bicentennial" by Local Gems Press, NY, 2019.
Mazarine Air
I've seen Panther Peak a thousand times,
But once, it wore a strand of cloud
Beneath a dove sky-ocean,
Wind turning light gray air to mazarine.
On windswept days,
Our heart cares
For scattered sparrows
Whilst our soul can fly with them.
Rare rain
Regales the Sonoran in green.
Fly with the sparrows
In air of mazarine.
-- Poem published in the "We Are Beat Anthology," National Beat Poetry Foundation, Inc. by Local Gems Press, NY, 2019.
Heidi is the author of 3 poetry chapbooks, "Magic Lamp, Pillar and Comet," "Memory Echoes" and "Queen Anne's Lace." Please go to the Poetry Chapbooks page for more information. They are available in paperback.
Copyright 2013. Heidi Hallett. All Rights Reserved.