Poetry  4  Winter  2015
 
 
 
 
Wild She
 
     by Terri Hadley Ward
 
When the wind beckons your soul,
and the drumbeat swallows
your throbbing heart;
when moon-dreaming, eyes aflame,
the music of your life summons the wild She,
and whirling, stomping, flailing,
you dance the darkness from your heart,
I will dance with you,
singing rivers weaving light as we jump into the flames
and touch the moon.
 
 
 
 
 

Take Off Your Dress

      by  Terri Hadley Ward

 

Take off your dress,

cast to the fire the binding, pinching life

holding captive the soft hills

of your goddess body.

 

"You must not offend."

"You must not entice."

 

In the dark womb of the forest,

a clearing patiently waits

for the press of your naked feet

against the earth.

Gnarled arms entwined, grandmother trees 

pray  to the moon.

 

 

Take off your dress,

cast to the fire the dry husk,  painted mask 

of your shrunken life.

 

Listen to the blood moon music thrumming 

in your soul, and hear on the screaming She wind,

 

the beat of your own wild heart.

 

 

Bio: Terri Hadley Ward is a writer and artist who gains her inspiration from being in nature. Originally a marketing writer, she now writes poetry and essays that celebrate the mystery and power of the sacred feminine. She lives in Hampshire County, WV, with her husband, Michael; sons, Zach, Kevin, and Connor; dogs Sadie and Frank, and cats Marco and Shadow. She nourishes her soul through writing, painting, yoga, meditation, gardening, and hiking.
 

 

 

Winter Geisha

      by Kim Hazelwood

 

Sunset fills a room

Full of flowers fading from the forest

Where snow drifts as

The green river over ices,

The thin gauze of grandeur

Near the jade green roseapple bedpost.

 

Honing the fine art of loving so many,

The lonely art of loving just one,

With moans of pleasure

How darkly the night falls

No justice with the Luna,

Peeking sideways through

The thin gauze of lace curtains

 

Bringing the crisp air closer,

Manipulating skinfolds,

Giving, giving, giving.

Radiator heat,

Grumbles a rumba  beat.

She has stripped down too naked.

 

Trust is a hunter so lonely

For the Geisha,

Giving, giving, giving.

 

 

She wonders if he ever wonders

What she’s really thinking or feeling.

Cascading  hair  tumbles.

She leans back and falls and just lets go.

Always  the Geisha,

Giving, giving, giving.

 

The lacy curtains  charter a chill

Unfamiliar  legs climb so briefly

And  push  the  star apple bedspread  akimbo.

Shivering   a  disagreeable  degree of cold.

 

But  the   4  o’clock Thursday guest,

Sometimes  takes  a  longer rest.

It’s the best,

But ravages

Her  heart  apart.

Something dies, something lives.

 

Every now and then

She gets to really see him

Take off and arrive in that place

That  piece  of paradise that almost parades

The peacock of love.

 

For  this  puzzle of a man,

She  sometimes  cancels  her 3.

Slips into   jasmine  lotus  blossom  steaming  bathhouse bliss,

Caring what memories, what fragrance  he takes away.

 

 

But trust is a lonely hunter,

For the Geisha

Giving, giving, giving.

 

 

Embers from a patio firepit,

Rise like  tropical fireworks  and fall like snow

Cruel  joke,

The jazz of incendiary masquerades in intimacy,

A  madness so far from fine.

He tips his glass and dips in slow dance

Her glissando heart .

He stays  a little longer,

Quips  a bit and it seeps into her fragmented  soul,

She kisses him on the cheek, then sneaks one

Onto his lips,

Silently thanking  him  for  the sweet fire of the  illusion

Of love, however 

Brief his stay.

Near the jade green roseapple bedpost.

 

Bio: Kim Hazelwood is the editor of this litzine and the author of  CoyoteBat!. Last year she had the honor of being interviewed by The WInchester Star as one of the featured poets for 100,000 poets for change-a worldwide event. She was also one of the judges at the  Poetry Out Loud National Recitation Contest at a local high school in November.  She is thrilled that The Greensilk Journal  has entered the tenth year of publication and that writers of every experience level continue to contribute.