There were so many great entries to my poetry contest from a couple of weeks ago! I want to publish all of them, so here’s the next group. This group of poems were not for any specific theme. But they’re all terrific!
I am captive, yet moving like dust in the wind
I am now, I am no more,
Cold terror blots out warmth of hope
No rock, no mooring, I grasp for anything
There is no purchase, all dried clay crumbling,
All that there was melts before me, a vanishing tide
No wind, no movement, no light, no dark
But a force dragging me forward
Away from love and life, a prisoner in its grasp
Shapes surround me, silhouettes, dark upon dark
Effort is agony, ripping flesh, my hands cradle my womb
Baby floating in sea of chaos, all I have left of him
Please, I beg a distant form, my home, my strength receding
“There is nothing for you here but death Sassenach”
His voice, so much love, his tears upon my shredded heart
I am tumbled through rock, grating, grinding,
Rending my flesh, but a shell, I am naked
I am polished, I flow like a ripple in the sea
Letting go, I drift to earth where I must now go
Laying still, waiting for my pieces to find each other,
To rebuild my grief ravaged body
A light breeze touches me, bringing a scent
Of leather and steel, his body, my love, my home
My arms are empty, they fold in on mist that fades
“That they may be safe, she and the child,”
His words caress my ear, then silence, the reality of loss,
No entreaty will take me back, oh God, how will I go on?
– Susan Van Hoven
Outlander’s Happy Lament
My mind disappears
All the time, drawn to dreaming
Through the standing stones
– Peggy Anderson
GENEVA
She chooses a horse, a brindle mare
Rides as dusk envelops the valley
Grasping the last straws of daylight
She gallops into the stable yard
Before the groom closes the gate
The clang of cast iron behind her
Miss Geneva Dunsany never knew fear
In her childhood home
Her father was kind, hiding only
His implacable grief and sadness
(Still, he betrayed her
Gave her away.)
She didn’t know that not all servants were born to serve
She was drawn to his fire, never having suffered a burn
Soon to be given away, she’d take what she wanted
Choose a safe day, he said
So you won’t get with child
Geneva, now Lady Ellesmere, completed her education
Not long after her marriage
Her husband was kind, until he wasn’t
His careful veneer, vanished in an instant
(Her body betrayed her
Gave her away.)
She didn’t know what men can do
Or see the fury that lies just beneath
Until it was much too late
You are not what I paid for, he said
You worthless slattern wench
She writes a letter to her mother every day
Burns it before the ink is dry
She speaks now only to her child
Keeps him safe in the drum of her belly
She thinks of the girl who used to ride
Into misty foothills, heedless, wild
When she said, I will not give that old man my maidenhood
What she meant was, I will choose the father of my son.
– Ursula Krause
Outlandish Sonnet*
Let me not to marriage of true Scots
Admit impediments. Love isna love
Which alters after too much wedding night whisky
Or by historian spouse memories when ready to bed…or to sleep.
Och! It is a bonny sassenach healer
That looks on lochs, tuarachs, bannocks and modesty pouches, and doesna fash.
It is a verra braw red-haired leader of men with a crooked smile
Whose worth’s well known as outlaw, laird and kilt-dropper, redcoat’s lashes having been taken.
Love’s not a time-travelling fool, sailing on a dais to Skye with Eddie,
Though boggy moors, dirks, kirks, imprisonment and witch trials were faced, and a wee bairn lost.
Love alters not in a mere two centuries between standing stone visits, ye ken,
But bears it out even in the face of pre-ordained battlefield doom.
Mark Me! If this be error and upon Gabaldon proved
She never writ nor I Outlander ever loved.
– Julianna Czum
(*The author doesna apologize for decimating iambic pentameter. Any poetic license isna her fault. Blame it on the whisky!)
related (Cinquain for Bear McCreary)
escape
into my space
no one else is around
the notes of Bear’s music surround
my heart
– Leslie Fantacone
Goodbye, Bree
I am the lady of the stones
I was taken far away from my home
Encompassed in darkness, mayhem, and cold
A result of my fate that had been foretold
I am the lady of the stones
The Scottish rain seeps through to my bones
Separated from my lover true
My love, Frank Randall I will return to you
The lady of the stones I may be
A spy is what they all saw in me
Except for one with flaming red hair
For he treated me with tenderness and care
The lady of the stones soon faded away
For I became Claire Fraser quite suddenly one day
I fell in love, my heart torn in two
But if I had left I would not have had you
The lady of the stones I will always be
Even without my love I have you Bree
Twenty long years but he lived in your eyes
I tell you this now because I am tired of lies
The lady of the stones I will become once more
I felt the anticipation down to my core
In the care of Roger Wakefield I leave you Bree
You have learned all you can from me
I am the lady of the stones
I went back through to find my home
A. Malcolm he was pretending to be
But I did not care for he was with me
– Kristian Lynn Croft
Dragonfly in Amber
The dragonfly such a thing of rare beauty,
Preserved in the amber for all time
As the love between Jamie and Claire,
So selfless, romantic, and fine
The distance of time and years that were felt
Back through the stones, they each traveled alone
The seasons of solitude to soon disappear
As once more Claire would come through the stones
Twenty years later their eyes to meet
With the tears of lifetime beginning to flow
The tenderness and love still hidden so deep
The embrace so tight they’ll never let go
– Maria Binkley
Oh Jamie my love,
How your brawny chest enthralls me
You are perfection.
– Toni Hoffman
Ode to Angus Mohr
Two missing teeth and sass to bequeath,
He was loved for his feisty grin.
Rupert’s girth and his own brand of mirth,
Was a brew more potent than gin!
Eyes for Nurse Claire earned Jamie’s fierce glare,
Her kiss put his head in a spin.
Willing to bet, we shall ne’er forget,
This proud warrior of kith and kin.
Our tears are shed with hearts full of dread,
His passing was ever so grim.
Feeling so sad, farewell dearest lad,
Our loss burns like mortal sin.
Angus Mhor, R.I.P.!
– Karmen L. Schmidt
(note: Karmen’s daughter submitted this without telling her mother. Surprise! Karmen is the genius behind Outlander Anatomy – check out her blog!)
More wonderful poems to come. See the previous posts:
Contest Winners
Poems for Murtagh’s Eyebrows
Follow me on Twitter: @OutlanderTIBS, @ErinConrad2 and @threeifbyspace
Like us on Facebook or Subscribe to get instant notice of new posts
Share this article using our Social Share buttons above!
