What I Wouldn’t Do

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I can’t tell you exactly how it will end.
But I can say this:
When it begins,
It will feel like rain
And when it ends,
It will feel like the fire.
And the truth is,
We’re all beautifully mad enough
To believe that maybe love
Was meant to save us from ourselves.”

His hand, trembling and outstretched
To the beautifully frail creature before him
She eyed the hand and the boy
Ready to flee
If he began to move too quickly

Day after day he held out his hand
Then he’d sit quietly
Sometimes he’d read
As he listened to her falcon song
Then he began to sing along

Closer and closer
She was drawn
To the bright colors
Formed by their entwining music
Until, finally, at his feet she perched

When next he offered his hand
She didn’t resist
And lighted upon his wrist
Accepting tender caress
And sweet words turned to song once more

When he returned again
He was stunned to see his friend
Was no falcon at all
But a girl of the fey
Stood unveiled before him

The same emerald eyes
Feathers turned to locks of gold
No fear left
But a laugh of joy for his ears alone
Now her trembling hands open, offered to him

And it is there that they lived
In the dreaming forest
Laughing and climbing trees
For they remembered no other life
Before his hand in hers.
-LM Jones
(Quote: R.M. Drake)

Twilight Journey

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Nothing Gold Can Stay

I breath you
as I walk dark paths
warm honeysuckle breezes
clothe my bare skin
like no silk would dare to try

to the river I go
trailing fingers over rough pine bark
as I pass
they hum with my caress
and cicadas sing a wedding song
a promise of a happy marriage
Between the summer night
and my blue twilight dreams

I love the night
in all her exciting potential
so I follow the thrum of distant falls
ready for all uncertain gifts
be they good or bad
I will delight.

-LM Jones

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Innocence and the Ghost

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Nothing Gold Can Stay

I dreamt of a little blonde thing
With the ocean in her eyes
I followed and heard her sing
Off key notes drifting in skies

She didn’t seem to care who heard
It was her gift to the trees
Where she perched with the birds
Tangled hair and skinned knees

I watched as if trapped in a slow haze
Her world, so vivid, even at night
In memory it’s all just a daze
Of sweet smelling fields, golden and bright

I watched as she skipped through winding creeks
And bare feet flew over red dirt paths
Outside her kingdom they knew her as meek
Here, even the breeze echoed her laughs

I trailed the sound of her joy
As ethereal as the light on her hair
A moment I’d never destroy
But suddenly she turned and saw me there

Like a mirror in a funhouse, we faced
It was a…

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Infinite

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Nothing Gold Can Stay

“Do you remember still the falling stars
that like swift horses through the heavens raced
and suddenly leaped across the hurdles
of our wishes–do you recall?”

Oh! There you are!
Floating through the night
Under the same star
Her burning such a sight

An August harvest moon
Hangs heavy in a gown of coal
As cicadas hum and croon
Musical accompaniment for midnight stroll

Are you watching the sky?
The universe is a grand show
If I tip forward would I fly?
Fingertips reach, catching the flow

You see what I see
Perhaps you dream the same dream
Of all the lives that we could be
Ah, but things are not as they seem

So, in darkness I lay on still warm earth
Soft grass beneath open palm
As I remember the sound of your mirth
I breath, and I am calm.

-LM Jones
(Quote: Rainer Maria Rilke)

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Patchwork Phoenix

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“She was made of all complicated things,
But she always had a simplicity
In the way that she laughed.
And that is all she ever wanted,
For someone to understand her
While she was out making sense of her soul
And the handful of flowers
Blooming from the top of her skull.”

Brilliant sunrise breaking through
The shadow of fear in my mind
Tangled thoughts have been renewed
I think I’ll explore what’s left to find

I suppose I shall gather my scattered parts
With a thread of many colors I’ll begin to sew
After surveying the fields of my broken heart
My colorful patches will brightly show

Reds, golds, greens and paisley too
I’ll be a patchwork phoenix on the rise
From the ashes I’m made new
See the birth of spring within my eyes

No longer enslaved to fear and shame
Though the journey will be long
I have been sanctified through pain
Named weary no more, you may call me strong.

-LM Jones
(Quote: R.M. Drake)

She’s in the Trees

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“So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May not fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.”

This is the story of a wild girl
With skinned knees and tangled hair
Inside her there dwelt a pearl
She didn’t know was there

It had begun as a lump of coal
And through pressure began to take shape
It would become lovely to behold
She knew nothing of her fate

The pressure came in the form of sorrow
She learned much of loneliness and pain
Nights she prayed for no tomorrow
Seeking refuge in the rain

She embraced every storm
Never asked “why me?”
and so the a small pearl took form
Only a shadow of what it would be

She took solace in the branches of trees
And the worlds within a book
Wrapped in a cocoon no one could see
Her mind was a haven impossible to hook

Years passed and the storms gave their best
A woman has grown from that little girl
She’s still in the trees, they are her rest
A smile in her eyes, for she knows of the pearl.

-LM Jones
(Quote: Robert Frost: Birches)

Niamah

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I went to DragonCon this year and cosplayed my character Niamah.
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Nothing Gold Can Stay

Niamah stands very still at the edge of the turbulent gray water. Just the tips of her bare toes are submerged. She can feel the chill, like icy tendrils, crawling up her legs and spreading throughout her body. The cold wraps her like a vice as a gust of wind irritably pulls her golden hair from its braid.  A fine mist settles on her cheeks like a tender kiss and there’s a sort of comfort in its caress. The thin bed clothes are no protection from the demanding elements, but rather than fight them she willingly, almost happily, gives herself over to them.

As she observes the river she begins to notice little details under its surface. The stones are an impossibly smooth ivory. She resists the urge to bend and scoop one into her palm. Her eyes are drawn to a black moss growing around the stones. It glistens…

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