Poetry of Gavion E. Chandler~
"Whispers and dreams of things wild and terrible with child-like wonder... poetry that song that sings of the soul."
Gavion E. Chandler~
A Spell of Silver and Wind
Spider web silver, spun and bound
Strung across, veiled and ‘dorn in golden sunlight
Hangiing in morning deep with a silence
Where shimmering jewels of morning dew
Glimmer and gleam against nature’s tapestry
They, woven of emerald crowns and thorns…
There those silver spun oracles jewel’d, whispered of a kiss
Tight-rope walk ‘long nothingness of a dream.
This moment, painted and poised
In the window-pane-frame
Where moth, and gnat and bee
Weave and bob on winds’ unspoken breath.
In golden dawn’s unspoken spell, the tale comes to be told.
Here the world seems so much smaller,
And yet, so much larger than we would think it,
To believe it to be.
Spider web spun in golden light
Silver thread pearled with dew’s temporal jewel,
Winds deep with anticipation,
where morning’s breath waits…
And here I ponder in my own wonder,
The day and deeds that are to come.
The world, it frail with a breath of wind,
And that promise that yet to be spoken,
In thought and deed.
Upon a spell of silver and a whisper of wind,
Dream-sakes of shadows and things wait to be.
Gavion E. Chandler~
~*~
Beauty in the Rain
Spectre, woven with winds of dreams,
Fervent with passions longing…
Beauty’s aspiration
Lost to that silence of a soul…
It spoken in faint expectation;
Each whispered in desires,
Desires wanting, ever longing….
Here beauty enslaved,
She stands envisioned….
Silver soul whispered in gentle grace…
Lost and damned to wantings of heart;
Hearts never content…
That angelic spectre,
Perfect in poise,
Consumed in sorrows and pains
In their endeavors, duties and trials
She stands, framed in silence…
Spectre, woven with winds of dreams
Fervent with passions longing…
Lost and ravaged in Hearts’ eyes,
Ever cruel with passions’ lust,
She whispered in sweet nothings,
Lost to wolfish desires,
Her soul in heart in time… forsaken.
By Gavion E. Chandler~
Greys Bleeding Red
The greys of the world bleeding red...
A world mad gone mad,
the inescapable thing that it is...
They' remind us...
In pain of fear...
In sorrow's dread..
In horror's dream...
'They' remember...
'They' remember,
never letting us forget...
in some mad desperate hope
''They' prey that we can't... that we won't forget...
The greys of the world bleed red....
Gavion E. Chandler~
Ballads and Tales of Mother Willow
Earth wet with morning’s dew,
The wind sweet, bitter sweet with memories…
She, in sorrows whispered of joys
Tends kindly to her harvests… her mysteries…
Skin rich, worn with time’s gentle caress,
Withered, timeless at a glance,
Where children rampant with dreams,
The pitter-pattering of little feet thunder,
Racing within her earthen troves of labyrinths…
Their memories, they in dreams’ whispered soul fondly kept…
Memories, tainted with sorrows’ pain… hope… regret…
Swaying in her vines of branches,
Dancing in draught-wine winds
Tenderly, longingly, she sings her silent song…
Her tapestry of leaves trembling with delight,
That ballad’s song of songs, tinged, torn with moments swiftly pass,
She daps the dews of tear-torn memories,
Longing to remember… ever longing to forget….
She, upon her crown of jewel’d dew earth,
She in her silent dance,
Ever steadfast and true, poised in gentle grace stands…
Timeless as the days of dawns,
Remembering, longing ever weaving dreams of Shadow-born.
She, ever bitter with a mother’s love,
Tends moments whispered in dreams
Where those lessons in heart witch and bound her,
To be… to remember… to never forget…
She stands ever eternal, ever true.
By Gavion E. Chandler~