A Collection of Poetry
Lillian Smith
Awaiting an Aria
Center stage under a lone spotlight he appears.
Illumination in the dark,
All eyes upon him.
The impenetrable murmurs from balcony to parterre,
Easily quelled by a melody rising from the pit.
The score; its every note diligently learned,
Echoes throughout the house,
Revitalizing every soul.
He stands before them, steady breaths, steady hands,
Looking far off as though having forgotten he’s not alone.
Without a word eagerness is sparked, emotions roused,
Under his spell time seems to pause,
If only for awhile.
Then with a downwards motion from the maestro’s baton,
They’re met with his heavenly sound.
Fireflies
A Summer’s evening: twilight grants the sun its pardon
and nature begins to beckon.
Gentle little creatures answer its call, forthcoming
with their harmless yellow flames, flickering.
Hold out your hand; they might visit awhile,
and in your palm tiny feet will tickle.
They'll wink a warm greeting and humbly depart, glowing,
only to fade into darkness, disguising.
The Mona Lisa
Her arms relaxedly folded
with a three-quarter turn of her figure,
creating a pyramidal composition
giving her a timelessness and steady composure.
Her gaze, not directed towards the distance
like the typical early Renaissance portraits,
instead it meets your own
as if recognizing a familiar face paying her visits.
Modestly clothed in a dark shift: a loose dress,
and a pleated bodice with gold embroidery.
A translucent veil rests atop her hair,
her body unadorned by jewelry.
The corners of her lips slightly upturned,
the allure of an enigmatic smile.
As if secretly sensing she’s on display,
aware of her influence and value.
The landscape behind her showing sfumato:
a smoky haze, an imperceptible transition in color.
A blend of naturalistic description and idealism,
with technique and composition masterfully painted with ardor.
Nature Walk in Dawn of Early Spring
(A Sestina style poem)
By dawn in early spring,
my soul is beckoned to the trail
where Trilliums emerge
with blooms that frame this path of earth.
There, birds are perched in trees
and sing to lift a heavy heart.
Delight does fill my heart,
my weary steps regain their spring
while walking through the trees.
Their leaves do shade the winding trail,
when on the sleepy earth
the sun does finally emerge.
Furry critters then emerge,
who know by now they've won my heart.
These squirrels roam the earth,
or glide, or from the branches: spring.
As I stroll, they trail
from on the ground or in the trees.
Horizon lined by trees,
a distant scene that does emerge
before me on this trail.
A place in which my hurting heart
has healed itself in spring
of last when I was lost on earth.
For God designed the earth
and gave us beauty in the trees,
and fresh air of the spring.
The fragrant flowers that emerge
He gave for joy of heart,
for guidance on this nature trail.
Upon the end, the trail
I walk does fade away from earth.
A question, asks my heart:
Return or carry on? These trees,
they point the way. Emerge
will I, in dawn of early spring?
Emerge I will through trees,
and walk without the trail of earth,
for spring, it calls my heart.
A Seaside Evening
We sculpted our grand castle with grains of gold
while the glowing sphere hung over the horizon,
casting a shimmer over the calming waves.
Hues of yellow, purple, and red painted the sky
like the purposeful brush strokes by a masterful artist.
We adorned our handmade paradise with seashells
that we found as we walked where water weaves into the earth,
where the surf lures ones’ feet in even further.
When our shadows grew tall
and the warmth of day no longer touched our forms,
one last time we admired our seaside creation
with its towers surrounding, and a moat protecting,
now a home for the sand crabs and beach hoppers.