at Writers in our Midst and supported through the Port Moody Library. https://calendar.portmoodylibrary.ca/Default/Detail/2021-06-08-1900-Writers-in-Our-Midst-18

There is a video of tonight’s reading posted there. https://www.facebook.com/pomolibrary Time Post for me is 26:10. Thanks for having a look.

8June2021

Hi Everyone,

So, wonderful to listen to other people’s poems, which I’ve enjoyed very much. Thank you all.

My name is Lyn Ayre, born and raised in New Westminster, lover of words since I was 8 years old. I’m here tonight to share a few poems. Several of them were written in Newport, OR, our heart-home, where we vacationed for 29 years. Each of my poems are little stories, which give a glimpse into my thoughts and my psyche. I hope you enjoy them.

Soul Power

the trees haven’t broken, they bend in the wind

and the gulls haven’t crashed to the sea

the waves that have run along gold sandy shores

will continue for eternity

while I am my love sit in contented peace

amidst passions of water, earth, air,

we watch our own fireball sink out of sight

aware that we both really care

about all life that graces this planet called earth

fellow mammals, and fishes, and birds

as he tries to capture it pencil to sketch pad

I tried to write it in words

all the love that we have to give out to others

will always come back to us

for the living and laughter, the joys and the tears,

love of family and friendships and trust

it is out there just waiting to be enjoyed

I’ll remember to bend like the tree

and fly like a seagull then soar like a kite

and be powerful just like the sea

Racing Thoughts in Oregon

the ocean paints a still life

in rock and sand and shells

reminds us of a time gone by,

blue seas and salty smells

the lighthouse stands as sentinal

leads all ships safely on

through life’s choppy waters

and moments, glorious gold

upheaval, catastrophic,

crashing, crushing all

it still goes on deep within

our tiny fire-core ball

The small boys run, out-race the tide,

filled up with a powerful surge.

One half brave, the other half scared.

Dichotomy of urge.

Love’s Journey

He and I have set a course on uncharted waters.

He is my anchor, and I am his sail.

We watched the sunrise and go to sleep for the day,

weaving the illusions we must to survive.

When we awaken at sunset, in each other’s arms,

we come alive, as we refresh ourselves with love.

Slowly, carefully, we spin our dreams our hopes

into the night we go, on our big boat, our homemade cocoon.

We fly up to the stars and consider how it was before time began.

We dance and twirl and cast rainbows about.

We theorize, hypothesize, sympathized, and floating toe to toe, we talk and talk.

Our ideas and breath inter-mingle then flow away from us

attached to a silver court, they go on and seek out like minds.

Ballerina

I’m not a ballerina

trapped in a jewellery box

spinning always spinning

ever searching for the locks

I’m free to make another choice

to make my dreams come true

and sing and play and dance away

entire nights with you

When morning comes the sun is warm

upon the flowers and trees

they grow and reach and stretch way up

to feel the soft cool breeze

That’s how life feels not trapped within

a box of space and time

To laugh  be free  and truly see

what makes this world sublime

Ensnared no more I’m free to go

and march to my own tune

fulfilling inner prophesies

and ancient written tomes

Escaping Gravity

I have run

enraptured

by the movement

of my body

didn’t feel

my feet

touching the ground

I have danced

dreams answered

by the music

joy fulfilling

uplifted

transported

flying around

and made love

been captured

by the web

cast by delight

enthralled

released

from earthbound

known great freedom

in every chapter

escaping gravity

travelling with

spirits

angels

my soul   a pound

looking forward

cells scattered

into next part

of my journey

without a

physical harness

dragging me down

Cycles

troughs created, breaking foam,

miles of ocean on sand roam.

All that was here, is here. How?

Changing matter, then to now.

And now to then and back again;

recycled into this and that.

There is nothing new under heaven, on earth.

It’s all that is from death to birth.

And up and down and out and in;

through cycles many end begin.

In crashing surf and seagulls fly,

there’s no such thing as live or die.

It all is here. It’s never gone.

It separates and comes to one.

the same, and changing, ever be,

from past to present, eternity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Had some lovely comments on my reading tonight…

Lyn, good job on so many books. That’s dedication! Your poetry is great!

Escaping Gravity was especially lovely.

I’m loving your voice and soft words.

Lovely poems, Lyn.

Lyn, your imagery is wonderful.

And I wrote back, “Thanks for all the love, everyone.”

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