Mero's Mumblings

[pieces o nine]

That's lovely.

[The Meromorph]

This one was written to be read at the funeral of someone in England. She was killed on a trip to the store on one of her motorcycles, when a drunk driver turned in front of her. Well over two hundred motorcyclists turned up at her funeral, from all over the UK.

Fast Lady

Oh yeah, she was a fast lady, right enough.
See, she loved riding motorcycles. Had a lot of them, over the years.
Every one of them learned a new meaning for fast.
Many a track day hero quietly learned he wasn't near as fast as he had thought.
Mind she never bragged, never put anyone down. Not her.

Oh yeah, she was very fast with a helping hand. For anyone.
And very fast to make a new friend, And fast friends forever.
Even if you never saw her again.
See, she was very fast with a smile. A kind word. Good advice.
If you took it. Those that did were always glad they did.

Oh yeah, she was fast to her man, right enough.
And pleased you were to know it.
See, she deserved to be happy. Good man he was, too.
Made you happy to see them together, right enough.

Oh yeah, no-one ever called her a Fast Lady.
They called her friend, they called her beautiful.
They called her honest and true.
They called her Lucie.
Every heart that ever met her, loved her.
And was left a little better for that meeting.
Very fast to lift you up, she was. There was always laughter where she was.

She made the world a better place. Very fast.

R.I.P. Grib.

© Brian Henderson
July 2009
   
(/right]

[Opsa]

So beautiful. I know she'd love it.

[Jayna]

Wow, Meromorph, that is so beautiful. You are an excellent poet. I don't run into many, and see a lot of cringeable stuff on the internet... it's an honor to get to read your work.

[Darlica]

That was absolutely beautiful Mero.
And moving.

[The Meromorph]

Lliannan ap Caillean

The loud machine roars by in rapid shout,
While in your hooded eyes bright magic dances,
Contained,
Controlled,
And focused,
White on white.

The witch in summer has a certain madness in her eyes,
And all your touchstone, moonstone worlds are melded into one,
While where you lay, the sands of sleep are damp.
I lay there once, or was I dreaming?
I remember my fingertips were bleeding,
In the twilight,
In your bed.

© Brian Henderson
October 2009

[The Meromorph]

Pieces                                                                                                 

Cold curls uncanny in my heart,
And flays the seasons from my songs.
There is a melody I now have lost,
A dance I seem to stumble on the shifting ground.

She was sweet and gentle with our dreams,
And strong and forceful with our memories.
She granted no relief
Except to those who needed it; she did no wrong.

And now we feel her soul, in pieces on the winter ground.
Do not come to me for shelter,
I am fire in the sky, and I will
Helter skelter down your bones,
I will show our sorrows to the wind,
And call tornados from our grieving.

Something cold now keens uncanny in my heart,
And eats my songs.

© Brian Henderson
January 2014

[Griffin NoName]

Beautiful. I like that Pieces is the first post on this page too.

[Opsa]

I saw this posted in the Monastery in Mourning thread. It makes me think of that Dylan Thomas poem.

"Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. "

[The Meromorph]

Sometimes...

Sometimes, you are just plain gorgeous,
And we are all a little happier to be alive,
We find the sun shines a little more often,
And we are gentle with our friends.

Sometimes, the day's changes in you,
Bring us a joy that sings aloud in our hearts,
Cause our legs to dance a little as we walk,
Make us want to tell strangers, they are very much loved.

Sometimes you are stunningly beautiful,
In ways we do not understand,
We do not quite know what we should do,
Though we are very sure, we should do it very well.

                             Like a deer in our gardens,
                             Like a hawk in our skies,
                             Like the laughter of children,
                             Like advice from the wise.

Sometimes, you shine so brightly,
We all get a little dizzy from the light,
And say silly things we really mean,
You should understand, this is how it should be.

© Brian Henderson
October 2015

[Griffin NoName]

Thank you, Mero.

And good to see you.