Aluredian
50
The Turn of the Tide
At the half-moon's whimsical glare
The hauntingly empty sky surrenders
Hushing the shower of insistent frost
That lingeringly pierces the greener grass.
Foreboding of Time, and Time's abysses
The clock's chimes strike the night skies of March
Filtering the panic of passing, of patience,
As another sleeper tosses on turbulent waters.
Then a practised owl challenges the silence;
Most powerful huntress, defying the gods of darkness
She feasts on the weaklings of the undergrowth
That hide in the gatherings of the snowdrops and bulbs.
As the Northern Lights dance on Breeze's highway,
The tides turn on the seasoned winds
Casting multitudinous shadows into our insignificant world
While a spring tide showers onto sleeping silence.
Dawn grips the night sky with its heavy greys
Slippery mists flying on a dismissing morning
As gods in the clouds above concoct a season's end
A sun's return, a floral exhibition of power
The mist clearing now, the owl returns to her wise oak tree,
Glaring at the half-moon's demise, the retreat of the darkness
She turns her back on the reviving landscape
As the twitter of spring birdsong replaces her hostile hoot
Behind a canopy of floral curtain, a youth stirs
When sunbeams touch her as yet wintry skin
She opens her eyes to the glowing light of day
And welcomes with relief the spring tide, the coming of
spring.
Freedom
Take me on the highway where wizards fly
Through the dusk of Hogwarts Road
Where the sun shines down on a world that's sound
And energy's on overload
Take me to a sea where we can swim
Beneath a canopy of palm trees
And only birds fly in the bright blue sky
Birds that always get on with the bees
For here we jump in this constraining dump
Where no sun or sea can be seen
Calling "Free country, come to me!"
As we dance to 'Billy Jean'.
Take me to a mountain covered in snow
Snow that never will melt
And no silly jerk calls us back to work
No sense of humanity's felt
Take me to a meadow where poppies grow
That doesn't hide battle scars
Where we'll run all day, watch the children play
And lie down and look at the stars
For here our soldiers fight in the dead of night
And the snowy mountains are gone
Calling "God, pity me, set our country free!"
As 'The Man in the Mirror' plays on
Take me to a lake in the African bush
Where the water flows deep and clean
And the children don't brood and are full of good food
Are not hungry, skinny and lean
Take me to a street, a lane, a main road
Full of pushing and rushing and strife
Where all the hectic crowds stop being so loud
And retreat from the chaos of life
For here where we sit it's all litter and spit
And chewing gum up to our knees
Yet once upon a time in this land of 'Auld Lang Syne'
This place was grass, flowers and trees
Take me to an animal kept prisoner
And make those bars vanish away
To a child who's lost, don't make them pay the cost
Lead them to the light of day
And take me to a home where I feel safe
Free of friction, estrangements and tears
For I know in my heart, no one plays the easy part
Nor have they throughout the years
So here in our great kingdom, I'll ponder freedom
Looking out over the sea
As it roams 'long the dock, below the lads mock
The old saying "It's a free country!"
Olivia Feilden, 62