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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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
I have run
by the movement
of my body
touching the ground
I have danced
by the music
and made love
by the web
cast by delight
known great freedom
in every chapter
my soul a pound
into next part
of my journey
dragging me down
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.”