Poems by Regina M. Elliott

starlight and raven waters
silence white of eyes
shadows nearing shore

i dreamt passing through eden's bidding gates....
walking down glittering roads

a gathering of charity's lifted souls....yuletide
hearts rejoiced glad

angels praised his goodness....poinsettias
circled round his blessed presence

Summer lover's moon shyly enclosed in
silvered clouds,
a honeyed recollection-
white caps of memory waves,
cresting, curling dreamily,
a tide under eve's star canopy,
coupled in enchantment,
entwined on the beach.

Kings and queens of the timberland,
their pups learning their royal birthright,
running, running in freedom's natural gift,
as the winter ochre moon rises above the
ridge,
the pack howling in unison,
a music so enthralling.
Crystal blue eyes shudder the dawn,
please don't kill my wolves.

Oh, God no!
I cannot bear the thunderous rifles,
as they fell my spirit animals.
My heart asunder,
my soul bleeds with them in the
crimson snows.
Please don't kill my wolves,
Native American songs echo
through the pine forests as
their lamentation cries out-
please, please don't kill our wolves!

Of humanity's many members,
of smoky mountains standing in the clouds,
of the heavens You sprinkled with an infinity
of stars,
and valleys of the goodness of crops and
the moonlit magnolia trees,
oceans, lakes, rivers, and streams came
to life from You.
Of the joy of birds at the feeder,
I love You first.

My Jesus, my Christ,
the bats whoosh out of their caves at
twilight in their hunting of insects,
my grandchildren play on summer's
lawns with buttercups dotting the
expanse,
whilst autumn stirs in his slumber,
as the days age more for me,
I love You first.

You're my morning star,
my evening comfort,
I adore You most sweetly,
You came for me when others didn't,
to rescue me from the hurt and the
mourning for the earth and her people,
her animals,
as hatred, as war, as pollution mars
her glorious face,
I love You first.

You, Dearest Redeemer, Deliverer,
sent some of Your angels to watch
over us-
in frosted nights,
and in spring's awaited rebirth,
Truest One, my heart in reverence
to You,
I love You, always first.

North Carolina ballerina,
sweet lady of the Piedmont,
she, so sterling,
died from the selfishness
of a drunk driver.
Gliding into a pirouette,
as she entered God's garden
of youth.

The anguish tatters the sails
of my psyche,
as the rain gently descends
from a sorrowing ash sky.
I drink the bitter taste of loss
from the goblet of the ages,
no, please no, she was a
precious one.

The dew glistens on the
white-hued roses of
maiden innocence,
as if tears on an
infant's cheeks.
Elena, our ballerina
of grace,
Death passes into life,
your beauty of a June
magnolia blossom,
charming the angels who
attend you.

Elena, Elena,
your lovely dancer's legacy,
still dwells in our midst,
Your name whispered in
summer's evefall starry music.

o the vast lawns of white stones silent....
as a sparrow tends to her new clutch

only in engraving they speak soldiers' names....
and the wars they fell in

men and women of brave....as the bugle weeps
in taps too young in sleep

hearts in cadence stilled....wars are storming
bastards of fire roaring death

soldiers' stories whispered in....aligned
standing rows of everlasting