This poem and photograph are placed here as a stamp. Her impression lives on in the memories of many family, friends and poets who knew Libithina. Please enjoy a moment taking in the words of this poet and I would encourage you to visit her blog to soak in more of her work
From Magic of the Faery Queen (an excerpt) Libithina -copyright 2011
Then come sparkling star
wakening sleepy fields
and rushing falls onto streams
where birds sing and call
a gown prepared of the finest
spun golden filaments
clasped in emerald
matching eyes of green
and slippers of softest moss
caressing your feet
no beauty to compare
Such is the Magic of the Faerie Queen.
But what if there is never anyone
Waiting to see
soft gentle palms
From twiglet borne
Tweaks the real
To hopes that’ll last
pressed rose persuades
reaches, struggles to grasp
holding on to faith
will it last
Oh Libithina: for a moment I bask in the sunlight of your words.
You ponder life and the beyond and always end in beauty and hope amidst the struggles.
Yes – it will last dear light!
This is my submission for the prompt at New World Creative Union. We are encouraging creativity to be expressed for the memories of those we love and the impressions that last…
Civilizations led by hate will always end in war and destruction
Beneath the feet
there is a wall
hidden from most
reflecting the fall
Once children were taught
words from the heart
when they did pass
is where it starts
kept out of sight
tucked under the wall
there is a sickness
unbeknownst to us all
The word is Hate
it starts deep within
but as it lingers
it grows into sin
like a plant
that like a weed must grow
it chokes out all reason
no goodness to show
there peaking in the shadows
beneath cruel HATE
it’s lingering- WAR
by now it’s too late
for hate as it blossoms
will weave and will spin
Photography: “Column Base”, “Hate’s Shadow”, “Hate and War” copyright L. Moon 2012
This completed work consists of poetry and photography. I hope you feel the statement that is in response to the Wednesday Wake Up Call at New World Creative Union. The artist is asked to ponder: ” 1000 years back…1000 years forward….can you feel the weight of our evolution? Are we now prepared to learn from the lessons? Where do we go from here? Our planet is dying, our societies are struggling, the line between the have’s and have-not’s grows ever more defined. How did this happen…how do we change? ” Thanks to Natasha Head for the inspiration.
This week for The New World’s Creative Union and Sunday Snap Shot, I was inspired to perform a duet of color and words with my friend and co-writer Sean Vessey over at Knight’s Heart. It’s been awhile since Sean and I have dueted together so I asked him if he would be willing to duet off each other’s words and this photo rendering of the sky.
Photograph “Painted Sky Lines” L. Moon copyright 2012
“I am air” the nymph proudly said to the lion after having her request refused.
“You can neither move me nor displace me. I am fire.”
“Ah we shall see.” the nymph smiled with a half wink
“We shall see…”
Nymphs (especially the air ones) have an uncanny ability to change shape and size.
“It is not a big blow but a small, elemental one required of this beast .” she giggled to herself.
A sleek feline entered the grassy meadow where a maned lion lay fast asleep. She circled first so that the silent air would carry her scent. stealthily she walked up to the beast and whispered “Catch me if you can”
She bounded off into the trees knowing when he caught her scent he would follow. She found another meadowy area and laid down. She rolled crunching the grass and making sure her scent was obvious. Before he arrived, she became a nymph once more and ascended into the trees to watch. He bounded toward the area and waited for her return. He seemed to look sad and displaced but soon roared and fell asleep.
The nymph was tickled but dared not disturb the beast.
“This tea party is the very best you’ve ever had.” all her guests exclaimed. The nymph agreed. The meadow was the perfect setting.
Smiling she thought “Air wins over fiery Mr Lion.”
In the breeze, a lioness returned to the meadow …
Photography “Falling Sun” L. Moon copyright 9/2012