Amanda Turnbull-Leslie

 

 Hand in My Hand…

 

 Hand in my hand

Time’s hands motionless, nothing seems to matter

Raw, unfamiliar is this land.

 

 A child, looking back, skipping over the sand

Allegro steps, the ocean’s patter

Hand in my hand.

 

 And now, a curtain- nightfall grand

Memories obscure amidst the sorrowful clatter

Raw, unfamiliar is this land.

 

 The grey shadow secretly took its stand

Surreptitiously it stole; life it did shatter

Hand in my hand.

 

 Anger amidst the ache; did fate have this planned?

Rage, rage!  Was it all just chatter?

Raw, unfamiliar is this land.

 

 Countless arrived to honour his command

Bleak was that day, my song it did scatter

Cold hand in my hand

Raw, and familiar becomes this land.

 

 

 

The Cardinal

 

 “Tapadh leibh,” I heard the old woman say*

He returned; scarlet plumage merrily ablaze

Prestissimo prints altered the alabaster, unblemished snow

“Tapadh leibh,” I heard the old woman say

The virtuous confidante settled, and began his flute-like song

A tropical enlightenment against the somber grey

“Tapadh leibh,” I heard the old woman say

He returned; scarlet plumage merrily ablaze.

 

 

 

   *‘tapadh leibh’ pronounced ‘tapah leiv’; Gaelic, meaning ‘thank you’

 

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Sentinel Poetry (Online) #43  - June 2006. ISSN 1479-425X

The International Journal of Poetry & Graphics...since 2002. Editor: Amatoritsero Ede

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