The Maiden of Aberdeen There is a town called Aberdeen, Which is home to a Lass - you see; And not a traveler has ever seen, A fairer maiden as she. The town is quaint and friendly yet, There is not a lad who has spoken; For they're all caught within the net, And share a heart which is broken. Now this fair maiden of Aberdeen, Who wears no rings on her fingers; Her youth and spirit is that of a queen, Yet her heart is empty and lingers. There is a man within her gaze, Whose portrait is handsome and strong; His charisma lulls her in a daze, As she listens to his song. His uniform bulges from his build, The Commander of the knights; Excelling all within his guild, Winning wars and many fights. He stands quite well at six foot four, With thick broad shoulders to match; His voice is deep and something more, There is not a lady he couldn't catch. But this man's heart is just for one, For a Lass whose radiant and lean; His admiration he hopes has been won, By the maiden of Aberdeen. Alas our two have yet to speak, To each other for fear of losing; A romance is what they truly seek, And are tired of games and choosing. Upon a mirror of velvet sea, There shines a moon so bright; Our gent awaits behind a tree, Shadowed from the moon's soft light. His eyes scan over the sand and grass, With a vision as sharp as a hawk's; Until his gaze falls on his Lass, Where he just stands and simply gawks. Her beauty holds him in his place, As his eyes are locked in stare; She wears a robe of white and lace, Now is the time he must dare. A wind comes by from the North, And dances with her hair; He makes his move and now walks forth, Stepping into the glare. The maiden turns as the silence is broken, A knight walks forth in full plate; Her heart swells and emotions are woken, As he approaches with a steady gait. His legs are strong and picks up the pace, While his heart swells within; She has a most enchanting face, Like no other and without a twin. Our maiden stands before our gent, Gazing into his warm eyes; Thinking heaven and her angels had sent, This man within his guise. His voice is soft yet carries weight, The words come out in rhyme; And as he courts her as his mate, Their hearts stand still in time. Raising his arms toward his Lass, With emotions stirring amiss; He enfolds the maiden within his mass, And proceeds to give her a kiss. A warmth takes hold caressing the two, As the angels smile above; Each other's soul is reborn anew, From their eternal love. Alas their lips detach and part, Both are warmed to their toes; And within the cloak near his heart, He produces a long stemmed rose. Placing it in her opened hand, He makes a vow to his Lass; No matter where he travels on land, His heart will be with his Lass. She awakens in bed with a start, It was real or so it seemed; An ache is felt inside her heart, Realizing she had only dreamed. Taking the covers she gently throws, A pain is felt instead; Looking down she spies the rose, Long stemmed and crimson red. By Brent D. Skelton Where Can Love Be Truly Found? As I sit upon a tree, While different birds chirp merrily; My eyes gaze up toward the sky, What does happen when we die? Some talk of snow white clouds, With silver-lining for their shrouds; Others speak of a golden light, Which dissipates all internal fright. Now I lie upon the grass, Thinking of an enchanting Lass; Her stance is quaint and beauty free, An image appears in front of me. Her hair is black as darkest night, With eyes that warm your lasting sight; Her smile would calm the fiercest beast, She is quite stunning to say the least. A gentle breeze comes my way, Cooling my face on this summer's day; For I am captured in a trance, By this Lass's graceful stance. If there were a heaven in which we went, A place our souls were truly sent; I would see but just one sight, This charming Lass in all her light. And as I stand in arm with thee, My heart and head are now set free; For if not from dreaming within my mind, Where else a beauty could I find. And like peace found in the dove, There is a place in heaven above; Where angels sing and trumpets sound, My search for Love has been found. The Aged Oak There stands a tree of ageless time, Upon a hill so green; Its roots are thick and now entwine, The earth from where it's been. A massive trunk takes base below, Thick branches rise above; And perched up high is seen a crow, Who's heart is lost with love. The day grows short as clouds come round, When sun's gold rays turn red; If not for the wind there'd be no sound, A storm is brewing ahead. Taking comfort from the weather, He is weak and tired still; Colour has faded from each feather, As he shivers from the chill. There was a mate in which he knew, Who cared for him so deep; And thinking of the times they flew, Has destined him to weep. Her beauty was pure and always bright, They shared so much together; He saw her as an enchanting sight, With a voice as rich as leather. A wind picks up from the North, It carries in the cold; The crow begins to walk back and forth, Knowing his fate is foretold. As the storm begins to rage, The oak stands fast and sure; And like some fearsome angry mage, The heavens attack the poor. Lightening comes first with blazing light, As the wind becomes stronger; Searing everything in its sight, Leaving what's left for thunder. A boom is heard from overhead, The clouds are black as night; So loud as if to wake the dead, The storm begins its fight. Rain comes down strong and heavy, Washing the earth away; Nature is enforcing her mighty levy, On this dark and stormy day. Our crow is weak and lies in wait, For the storm to take him away; But the oak has chosen a different fate, So he may see another day. Thick limbs move to shelter our friend, The roots grab fast below; And no matter what nature has to send, There is something she doesn't know. For the oak has lasted time and won, And knows what makes a friend; With courage and strength like the sun, It will protect our crow to the end. Lightening strikes with searing heat, With full intent to kill; Blinding arcs and smoke to meet, She tests the oak's great will. Thunder booms and shakes the ground, Like some gigantic quake; It hopes the oak and all around, Will die within its wake. But the oak stands like some great dragon, With a courage next to none; Battling the storm as it rages on, Knowing it has already won. Thick bark deflects the lightening, Sending it another way; With speed and power that is frightening, Like a God - you could almost say. The thunder with all its force, Is no match for the oak; Mother Nature knows of course, This giant won't die in smoke. The crow watches with eyes a light, As the titans clash and compete; Wondering who will win this fight, From his safe and comfy seat. Alas the storm is giving in, She is no match for the oak; For the strength and courage found within, Is like some armored cloak. The clouds break up and soon soar by, As rays of light shine above; Our friend the crow looks up high, And sees a graceful dove. The oak still stands after the war, And has kept his vow to the crow; With wings a ready and about to soar, He thanks the oak and then will go. And like the oak in this poem, My feelings are strong for you; No matter where you decide to roam, My friendship is open and true. So when you're down and feeling alone, Wondering what to do; Just call me collect on the phone, And I'll be a friend for you. Return To Friends Poems Email: bskelton@axionet.com
The Maiden of Aberdeen
There is a town called Aberdeen,
The town is quaint and friendly yet,
Now this fair maiden of Aberdeen,
There is a man within her gaze,
His uniform bulges from his build,
He stands quite well at six foot four,
But this man's heart is just for one,
Alas our two have yet to speak,
Upon a mirror of velvet sea,
His eyes scan over the sand and grass,
Her beauty holds him in his place,
A wind comes by from the North,
The maiden turns as the silence is broken,
His legs are strong and picks up the pace,
Our maiden stands before our gent,
His voice is soft yet carries weight,
Raising his arms toward his Lass,
A warmth takes hold caressing the two,
Alas their lips detach and part,
Placing it in her opened hand,
She awakens in bed with a start,
Taking the covers she gently throws,
By Brent D. Skelton
Where Can Love Be Truly Found?
As I sit upon a tree,
Some talk of snow white clouds,
Now I lie upon the grass,
Her hair is black as darkest night,
A gentle breeze comes my way,
If there were a heaven in which we went,
And as I stand in arm with thee,
And like peace found in the dove,
The Aged Oak
There stands a tree of ageless time,
A massive trunk takes base below,
The day grows short as clouds come round,
Taking comfort from the weather,
There was a mate in which he knew,
Her beauty was pure and always bright,
A wind picks up from the North,
As the storm begins to rage,
Lightening comes first with blazing light,
A boom is heard from overhead,
Rain comes down strong and heavy,
Our crow is weak and lies in wait,
Thick limbs move to shelter our friend,
For the oak has lasted time and won,
Lightening strikes with searing heat,
Thunder booms and shakes the ground,
But the oak stands like some great dragon,
Thick bark deflects the lightening,
The thunder with all its force,
The crow watches with eyes a light,
Alas the storm is giving in,
The clouds break up and soon soar by,
The oak still stands after the war,
And like the oak in this poem,
So when you're down and feeling alone,
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