Essentially, Aspen - who is from the central interior of British Columbia, Canada - simply writes for herself, but has now been persuaded to unleash her talents on to the world, via PP. She tells us:
"Writing poetry and drawing pictures is a good vent and escape from the things happening around me. It's great therapy. I never really intended on sharing any of my poems, so it didn't matter to me if they would make any sense to anyone else. Fixing them up for publication here has been kind of fun though!"
We look forward to watching her developing further on this very page!
Broken
Her spirit broken and rusting, like an old discarded
wrought iron ice-cream parlor chair.
Once like a mighty throne to a young girl
who felt like a Queen being served a treat in a fancy dish.
Now, tossed away and left to deteriorate in a rubbish pile,
not useful to anyone anymore.
Her heart is heavy from the loneliness she feels.
She lay there, bent and fading,
trying to remember the good times she once knew.
Waiting in that horrid mess for someone to rescue her.
She still has hope that someone will love her once more.
To be straightened, reappolstered and painted new
is all she wishes for.
She would be proud to sit quietly
waiting to comfort someone's weary bones again.
Sands of Time
Tragically the sands of time are nearing the end
Her nightingale voice cracks with age
Her hair is white and dull
Her youthful flesh, scarred and sagging
Fond memories of fiery passion fade
She turns, and looks into your eyes
You are overcome by her enchanting gaze
Deeper you stare, searching her eyes for her wisdom of age
You realize you already know the answers inside...
Then, you smash the mirror.
Soul Retrieval
A tide of emotions
has washed her soul upon the beach.
Shattered into a million pieces
it will be very hard for her to find them all.
Like tiny shards of glass
amongst the sands.
She carefully picks one up.
It feels like an eternity passes
before she finds another.
All that sand... all those little pieces.
She must retrieve them all
before she is whole again.
This will be a grueling task...
and she will do it,
For herself.
Afraid
I'm afraid to speak,
therefore, I'll listen to you.
I'm afraid of rejection
therefore, I'll please you.
I'm afraid to weep
therefore, I'll comfort you.
I'm afraid of loneliness
therefore, I'll embrace you.
I'm afraid of my actions
therefore, I'll understand you.
I'm afraid to let you love me
therefore, I'll mourn.
Copyright © 2001 Aspen Rainwood
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All work on this page is copyright © 2001 to Aspen Rainwood,
all rights reserved. It may not be copied or reproduced
without expressed permission from the author.
All work submitted to Paramount Poetry is assumed to be
the original work of the author and PP can take no
responsibility for stolen copyright then, or hereafter.
