days of stone

Category: Poetry

  • Lover

    Lover

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in ,

    she is a poem, electric brush of moonlight stroking naked flesh she is a poem, crimson rush of forest fire burning hidden dells she is a poem, the heated blush of verses written on my soul Ryan Stone

  • The Wind Whispers, The Wind Sighs

    The Wind Whispers, The Wind Sighs

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    – after Longfellow The wind whispers, the wind sighs, the dawn light brightens, a magpie cries; amongst the gum trees tall and green a girl becomes a faerie queen. And the wind whispers, the wind sighs. Morning settles beneath silk skies, her reign flits by like dragonflies; deep shadows dress the naked hill in dusk,…

  • Leaving Violet Town

    Leaving Violet Town

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    The boy sits alone while the carriage fills around him. It’s a V-line, a long haul, thundering into morning. Barely legible, a chipped sign fades and Violet Town falls away. He retreats to a paperback kingdom, while oblivious wheels devour miles. Sometimes his eyes rise to watch the landscape grind from here to there. Halogen…

  • Days

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    morning waves erase our footprints, hourglass sand Ryan Stone

  • felicity

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    embracing each day arms stretched to the horizon —forgotten scarecrow Ryan Stone

  • Deek’s Golden Day

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    A chill October morning. GreyMelbourne, 1982. Usually, we studentswould be outside at recessrunning ourselves warm. Not today. In the close schoolroom we huddlearound a tiny tv screen,watching the Commonwealth Gamesin Brisbane. Watching, in colour as marathon star, Rob ‘Deek’De Castella, battles two rivalsin third place through Fortitude Valley.Close to the 42km finish line Deek lengthens…

  • Godspeed

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    on the pier scattering tears and ashes …the wind dies Ryan Stone First published at Echidna Tracks

  • Bird Bath

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    nebulous rainbows dancing in the summer dawn – bathing rosellas Ryan Stone

  • Little Things

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    In the few spare minutes between kids’ basketball games I find myself in the produce aisle floating on a rainbow of yellow, red, orange, green. Vibrant and bursting with perfection, promising the flavors of earth and sky and stream. I pause— unexpectedly overwhelmed, grateful to live in a time where fifteen stolen minutes allows me…

  • Flutterby

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    twilit field royal wings fall still – death of a Monarch Ryan Stone