days of stone

Tag: thoughts

  • Hourglass

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    We walk the tide line barefoot on the morning sand, your steps close by mine. Later, I return alone but no trace of us remains. Ryan Stone

  • Riders in the Night

    Riders in the Night

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Outside, in the distance a wild cat did growl two riders were approaching the wind began to howl. -Bob Dylan Hoofbeats on the tundra! Beneath a mage’s moon she draws her shutters closely, prays morning finds her soon. Thunder shatters silence, a rapping at her door tears the night asunder– a wild cat’s chilling roar.…

  • Ghosts at Dawn

    Ghosts at Dawn

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Too thin – you now exist within a pause as dawn retracts her claws from day; you fade, while I must stay. Ryan Stone

  • Tempest

    Tempest

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Wind, blow – lift me high, don’t let go; fly me far, above sand and sea. Monsoon – take me, let’s chase the moon. – Ryan Stone

  • Shades

    Shades

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Her kiss at dawn is what I miss the most – as day break sings a ghost refrain: love dims to dust and pain. Ryan Stone

  • Rhyme of the Kingdom

    Rhyme of the Kingdom

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Over the mountains and down to the sea, you must come now if you hope to break free. No time to mourn for Autumn’s red bowers; the light we once made, now darkness devours. I can play you the rhymes of the kingdom, I can sing you the songs that you know; but we must…

  • No One

    No One

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    dawn pauses, explodes in a flash of carmine fire flaring in the east flaring in the east, Icarus ascends his throne – blazing flight of one blazing flight of one, Labyrinth behind, no one makes it out alone – Ryan Stone Written for National Poetry Month 2016 @ The Music In It – Being Alone

  • Teacher

    Teacher

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    A wail of sirens makes her pale with fear, returns her to the year she stole a cub from his foxhole. Ryan Stone

  • The Grey Mornings

    The Grey Mornings

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in ,

    I start at the sound of each car passing on midnight streets outside; hoping it’s you, knowing it isn’t. Dreams fade with your warmth as reality slowly intrudes: it would be enough to fall into your arms and know I’d wake there, too. I am only real when you are near, but you never stay…

  • Wedding Poem

    Wedding Poem

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    It’s a fleeting moment– a red sky at twilight, rushing to the long night; the last russet leaf clinging to bough as autumn inhales, breathes out. You know this, you’ve felt it in the grey light of dawn, in that pause between waking and finding. You’ve heard it whisper through the dry grass of summer–a…