Out On The Sand

OUT ON THE SAND

Dancing in the sun we'll go

To play out on the sand.
You are only three years old
But, as you take my hand,

The wonder you will see today

Will open up my eyes
As we collect the shells and stones
And laugh at sea gull cries.

We'll step into the salty foam

That washes all the shore.
I'll be a child again with you
As we go and explore.

You'll point out all the sailboats

As we share a repast.
But, just like every other child
Your quiet mood won't last.

We'll find the little tide pools where

The tiny fishes swim.
We'll laugh and play the day away
Until the skies grow dim.

Then you will lay your tired head

Upon my should when
We walk back home and dream about
That seascape once again.

© 2001  Pam H. Murray

I pulled this out of an old binder. It was quite a surprise to me because this summer my husband and I spent a lot of time at the beach with our grandson who was born in 2006. This so describes what it was like. He loves the beach and he and I would sit making sand castles for hours, digging for dinosaur bones (actually sticks), find shells and all the things that little boys so love. The picture I had in my mind when I wrote this poem is so clear and so similar it is prophetic.

With Wolves

Walking through the forest with the wolves
Hunting is completed for the day
Silently we move amongst the trees,
Ghosts, the barest hint of passing grey.

Now is not the time for howling song.

Now is time to find a resting place
Renewing bonds within our family
The sun climbs as we fade without a trace

Free from nightly calling of the moon,

Bellies full and ready for our sleep.
Silently we slip into the trees.
Beyond the place where rivers run most deep.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

Memorial

You’re gone, leaving this empty place
Those smiling eyes have left their trace.
Confused I stand outside this room
As evening brings its hints of gloom

And feel your laughter start to fade.

I wonder now at memories made.
Will they be strong enough to be
The strength that you once gave to me?

Will I get past those strangers’ eyes

That fill with tears? Will summer skies
Stop reminding me you’re gone
Though dreams of you might linger on?

We’ve been together all these years

But, as your essence disappears
I see the path we walked along
And hear an echo of your song.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

NOTE:  I watched Jack Layton’s widow speaking after his funeral and this came to mind.

Going Home

Weary to the bone I lie;
Beyond the window waits the sky
Until I exit with aplomb.
My life is done.  I’m going home.

In peace I’ll let my spirit be
A part of every living tree,
The moisture in surrounding land,
The whispered dreams held in my hand.

Upon the sunlight I will dance,
For every hour of day enhance
The wonder of the earth I’ve known,
A part of every seed and stone.

I’ll hold the secrets of the bear
And all God’s hunters everywhere.
Through mountain waters I will flow
Refreshing new life as I go.

I’ll have no weight to burden earth;
No fear of shadows, no rebirth

© 2010 Pam H. Murray

Hidden Audience

I see you watching dancers

Your eyes light up.  You fly
No longer in your wheelchair,
A comet in the sky.

You’re wrapped within the magic

Though your body cannot move
Your spirit’s flowing freely
Through each nuance, every move.

I watch you from the sidelines

And I am dancing too
On the strength of transformation
As my heartbeats fly with you.

© 2011 Pam H. Murray

Forever's Lullaby

Through the trees, mysterious trees,

The birds of morning sing to me
And all the shadow passers by
Like dust motes when the sun is high

Are woven through the cloth of time,
Cascading patterns, Life’s pure rhyme.
The random threads that we two made
Throughout the years won’t seem to fade.

They still awake me with the sun

And grant me rest when day is done.
At night I still can hear your sigh
Become forever’s lullaby.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

Dancing

Dancing with shadow and sunlight

Sheltered beneath the trees
I’m carried back to childhood
Dancing with memories.

My soul erupts in motion
Waltzing through all the years
That built upon the framework
Of Life’s laughter and tears.

Sometimes the footsteps taken,

Intricate, cross the stage
Leading me through a story,
Sometimes an empty page

Finds me as still as morning
Before the dancer awakes.
Just with the day’s first promise
I rise and that’s all it takes

To give me the glorious movement
Choreographed in the soul
Ascending beyond the shadows
Pure and beyond control.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

Dave The Wind

Tonight I felt Dave touch my cheek,
The second time he did this week,
Then shake the leaves above my head
As if confirming what he said

Though it was quite unknown to me
Just what his whispered words could be.
Still I could feel his passing by
And hear the longing in his sigh,

Just spending time with him felt good

Although I never understood
More than his need to stop and share
These moments in the cooler air.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

The Little Woodland Bridge

Her graceful ivory lines

Set in a crimson bower
Trimmed with green and yellow lace
Putting on her autumn face
Shine in a sunlit hour;

A little woodland bridge,
The finale of a dream
As water rushes past below
And voyeuristic breezes blow
Reflected in a stream

Give me a place to walk
Recalling passing years
And changes that have bridged each one,
The many races lost and won,
A bridge of hopes and fears.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

A Gathering

The sounds of quiet industry

In buildings steeped in history
Surround the little coffee shop
That echoes with the steady drop

Of caffeine as the world slips by.
The Winter clouds have claimed the sky
But here there is a gathering
Of faithful friends who shine like Spring.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

Battles

On this field a battle fought

By boys turned into men,
So many died, so many maimed,
None dared to dream of when

They’d walk once more through neighbourhoods
Where laughing children played
Unaware, in peaceful dreams,
Of sacrifices made.

Yet, in the dark, in pain and tears
Sit mother, wife and son
To mourn the ones who can’t come home
From battles fought and won.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

(Inspired by the movie “Glory”)

My Shelter

Oh silent, soulful morning
What did I do to get
These peaceful golden moments
Free of dark regret?

The sun shines through my window
And kisses sleepy eyes
Calling me to come and see
The spring’s first cloudless skies.

The air is crystal coldness

My heart beats in its peace
And joy becomes my shelter,
A world that’s lined with fleece.

For some, the hour is early
And they will never know
The sweetness of your greeting
And dawn’s enriching glow.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

Summer's Night

She called me to view the harvest moon
As if I didn’t know this month was June.
Reaching from the sky she called my name
Entreating me to come and play a game

Or watch the moonlight dance across the sea

To dip my fingers in its energy.
By day she was illusive in her play,
Preferring her world in its shades of grey

And temperatures cooler without sun.

She didn’t care for all the summer’s fun.
Though people only knew her early hours,
She called to me to tempt me with her powers.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Summer Storm

The angry rain sent rivers down the street
And washed away all remnants of the heat
As thunder shouted orders to the sky
And broken leaves and branches on the fly

Left traces on a stained glass window pane.

My heart beats raced within the pulse of rain
That flattened pansies in a window box
And left a tangled mess of broken stalks.

At, three years old, he gave a shout of joy.
A storm is magic to a little boy
Who's safe and warm with daddy at his side.
He sees adventure, not a need to hide.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Rain

Moving through the canopy
Above us all
Dropping through my empty soul
You rise and fall

Taking me along with you
Through summer heat.
Endless rhythm you compel
Me with your beat.

Grand renewal for the Earth
I am alive.
Through my saddest moments I
Know I’ll survive

As you cleanse this ancient world
In front of me,
Taking death and making life
Triumphantly.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Old Tree

Do you feel the whispering

Of winds that pass you by

In constant flight, the vagrant souls

That race across the sky?

Do you know the temperatures

That change from day to day

Cause your first buds and new leaves,

Then crimson shades that frey

To be caught in the wind’s strong pull

And cast upon the ground?

Is that defiance that you shout

With creak and snapping sound?

Should the morning find you laid

In silence on the path,

Fear not, old tree, I’ll sing your song

In spite of winter’s wrath.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

No Road Closed Signs

At your encouragement I went

And what a quiet day I spent

In sad reflection of lost time

And all the dreams left in my rhyme.

The air was cool and damp today.

I watched the river otters play,

Then watched the clouds shift in a break

That shimmered on the moody lake.

The road closed signs did not intrude.

On foot I sought an interlude

Of water dancing just for me.

You told me it might make me free.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Nature's Breath

Beneath the trees as shadows fall

And leaves drift down I can’t recall

The city sounds that haunt the day.

I slowly walk in shades of grey.

Where last year’s leaves lay thick and dry.

My passing feet cause them to sigh

As if to call back memory

Of days they danced high in the tree.

I stand quite still to catch the sound

Of tiny feet across the ground

And feel a dampness on my skin.

It’s Nature’s breath.  I breathe it in.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

Crimson Leaves

Today a crimson leaf or two

Appeared high in the maple tree.

A thousand thoughts from older years

Passed quickly through my memory.

The smell of leaves we set ablaze,

Smoke drifting through the neighbourhood,

The costumes from old Halloweens,

The fences on which pumpkins stood,

The frosty mornings, early nights

And children playing after school,

The sprinklers being locked away

Along with every garden tool,

The walks along old country lanes,

Leaves crackling underneath our feet,

The first hot chocolate of the year

As hands and throats thawed in its heat.

Each Autumn was a special time

That turned our thoughts to family

And once again my thoughts return

With crimson leaves upon a tree.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Forest In The Rain

Look above you as the giants weep

Knowing there are secrets they must keep

Capturing the essence of the rain

And we may not stand this way again,

Sheltered by the mountains that surround,

Steadied by the power of the ground,

Serenaded by the gnats and bees,

Walking under cover of the trees.

Here the night and day pass arm in arm.

Both hold shadows, both hold quiet charm.

Look beneath the needles at your feet,

A single footprint still holds body heat.

Listen for the crack of broken twig

And see the ivy that is still a sprig

Of colour laid against the spruce’s bark,

Another sign where life has left its mark.

Then turn around when it is time to leave.

Where one small seed has landed on your sleeve

A memory will grow for later years

To bring you back to feel the forest tears.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

The Old Elm Tree

In the silent morning mist

I felt her presence overhead

And felt her twisted limbs reach out

Just as the sky was turning red.

She enfolded memories

Of climbing feet and old rope swing,

Of dried birds nests and shadow leaves

And gentle days of early spring.

Though winter held her in its grasp

And silence wrapped her in its shroud,

As night retreated into day

She held herself erect and proud.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

On Autumn's Watch

As Autumn slowly touches Summer leaves

And children gather books then head to school,

The days grow short and we begin to dream

Of Halloween that calls for ghost and ghoul.

The harvest moon rides high and lights the way

To frosty nights with pumpkins on the sill;

To lit fireplace and family safe at home

With apple cider’s warmth against the chill.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Tiny Guests

The shadows of a rampant hedge

Mice slipping over window ledge

To find a haven from the night;

Some warmth to nurture ‘til daylight,

Are welcomed by the tiny house

Forgotten in the wilderness.

As quiet ghosts they take small note

Of life’s debris and time’s sad mess.

Instead they find a family

To share the night that’s threatening.

They all find tiny crevices

To dream of a forgotten Spring

As Winter crashes overhead

And trees stand guard against its storm,

Inside the mice enjoy their world.

Each family stays safe and warm.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Earth and Body

Earth and Body

The stain of morning bled across my lawn,
Collected in the shadows, then was gone.
A hummingbird was hovering nearby.
I likened it to sunbeams or a sigh.

It stayed for just a moment, then fled too;
This moment chosen from a very few
Brought an ancient dream of wilderness
Making life bestow a soft caress.

I closed my eyes and let it swallow me
And, with consumption, noticed solemnly
That time is but a kingdom of the soul
As earth and body join to make one whole.

© 2007   Pam H. Murray

Migrating Sparrows

As morning stroked its light across the sky
And any dream I had began to die
All senses woke to smell, to sight and sound.
I watched the shadows leave earth’s hallowed ground

And coming through the trees I heard the wind
That led the leaves in dance.  As they were spinned
I thought of children going back to school,
No longer sure about life’s golden rule.

Though life seems changed, it circles back again
As surely as the seasons bring the rain.
I let the memories wash over me,
Migrating sparrows that I now set free.

For, freeing them, the memories will stay
In graceful flight and never far away.
I'll have them dancing for a little while,
Each with a shout of laughter or a smile.

© 2007   Pam H. Murray

A Dream

I walked within a shadow of a dream

Where silver walls arose on either side

And I could not hear voices through the night.

I couldn’t find a place where I could hide.

I heard you sing but couldn’t find a door

To bring me to a place where company

Would ease the weariness this dream world held.

I called your name, but when you answered me

Your words did not make sense and so I fled

Into a hidden corridor of fears

When morning slipped into my silent room

And you were there to soothe away my tears.

© 2010  Pam H. Murray

Pamz Poetry Blog

Fabric of Friendship

Lost in the patterns of grey, black and white

Drifting through friendship in gentle flight
Fabric stretched over a beating heart
Waiting to see where the new paths start

After an absence of flowing years.

Now, in a moment, a window appears
As we meet over a table top
And long years between us begin to drop

Into the laughter and memories,

Faces that only a good friend sees.
It’s good to remember, to meet again
And relive the memories, pieces of grain

Making a garden that we explore,

I’m glad life came knocking upon my door
With an invitation to meet like this,
Joined in a moment I wouldn’t miss.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

(My first impression of the pattern on a blouse was a drifting pattern, like bird flight, a vision I often see when creating poetry.  It is a gentle rise and fall like a bird’s journey on shifting winds.  The black, grey and white made me feel like soaring through a sky of cloud patterns.  Then I soaked up the sensations of friendship and memory surrounding us all, even those of us who’d never met before, and this is what came to mind.This was written for Val Phillip's aunt wom we saw again after many years at Val's 70th birthday.)