ARTISAN OF WORDS


I am an artisan of words
Which I sculpt, chisel and fashion the way I can;
I am a creator of worlds;
I pour my emotion into the poems I write.
I breathe life into them, blow them skywards
And finish them only when they sound right.

These remnants of thought without reason
Will remain on pages season after season
Long after I'm gone; when my task is done
The love, the longing, the pain
Will be evoked then by somebody else
Who in turn will remember and write again
To create another slow soft song
That people can read and draw into their hearts
Then pillowed by words, cushioned by dreams
My poems will ride high the moonbeams.



Copyright: Rani Turton 2007


Thursday, July 29, 2010

Without You: Poem


WITHOUT YOU


Without you the waters lie still; the reflections of silent trees
Remain as though transfixed but not tranfigured
Green shrubs and leaves remain sombre; clouds peer
And wonder at the stillness.
It might even rain. Why doesn’t the rain
Fall now and be done with it’s will?

Without you feelings remain in my heart
Unable to be expressed. Freedom and finery
Are long behind. Senses and sense are nonsense.
When will the cells in my body awake?
When will the dawn come and awakening light
Awaken my brain?

Let me wait for another day yet again.


Copyright: Rani Turton

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Spider: Street Art, Paris


Cute spider on a street wall in Paris poised naturally, ready to spin it's web.