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Revised Poetry - Limited Palette



I revisited some older poems recently and after some deliberation, revised some of the stanzas, flow and syntax. I do this very rarely. Nevertheless, here they are in what I feel is in better order. I suppose by adding them to this blog, this counts as a first published; I will however, be putting them into some kind of book form with related artworks in the not too distant future.



Eight Sisters 2021





Limited Palette


By


David Glyn Davies



Revised Poems



Order of Poems


Eight Sisters


When Children Dream


When Teenagers Dream


Loving Cup


Overgrown


If My Memory Serves Me Correctly


Waterfall


Rachael And Leah


Quadripartite


Lunar I

Lunar II

Lunar III

Lunar IV

Lunar V


Night Sky I

Night Sky II

Night Sky III


Big Bang


Whoops Butter Fingers!



Eight Sisters


Eight sisters look ahead,

Through leaves, fruit and vines,

Floral chlorophyll green,

Eyes constant and unblinking,

Their gaze a reminder,

Of conscience prick responsibility.


Apple green turns to brown,

As leaves fade and drop,

For their earthly rebirth,

Fruit falls softly on gilded veins,

Whose golden leaves turn from silver to bronze,

Their veins carry blue blood.


They meander and drape around stony barley,

The sisters make an octagonal turn in ochre,

A movement to replace one for another,

The see a stony boss so jaundiced like their faces,

And reach out to press fingers into foliage,

They see buttercups lurking quietly.


Stony berries whose purple lustre,

Belies the truth of who they are,

As poisonous as their dark umber skin will allow,

They cast a shadow over bronze leaves of strength,

Silver leaves of want and desire and gold leaves of purity,

Inside their limited palette, the eight find octagonal harmony.


A balance of a sort that counters its opposite,

Like a truth waiting to be discovered by Euclid,

Seeing the light and drawing a first proposition,

The rays of the sun shine on absolute truth,

A worldly truth waiting to be discovered,

That balances harmony and function.




When Children Dream


If I could be me,

For one brief moment,

What would I see?

A case for atonement?


If you could be me,

For a few moments more,

What would you hide?

Your guilt so sure?


If we could be us,

For an hour of the day,

What would we show?

Our souls at play?


If I could be me,

And you could be you,

We’d get on with life,

Without further ado.





When Teenagers Dream


More than this agony,

She dances with another,

But really, honestly,

I’m dancing for you;

Kiss me later,

Lips to lips,

If you do,

I’ll kiss you too.


He wonders about,

So many things,

Dark and light,

Wake and sleep,

She calls out again,

Sometimes in fright,

Her mind unfolds,

From night to night.


It was a night of conjugation,

When they marched,

And expressed their vitriol,

With placards and banners,

Raised against the ugliness of humanity,

Of adulthood and political guidance,

And gave their love freely later,

Just like their parents.




Loving Cup


It is your love,

That takes the flight of birds,

In fact,

Your particular love,

To take away my words.





Overgrown