Ann Creer Victoria, British Columbia

"All that is not given is lost." May we all gather hands, that we might shine as one wedding band... on awakened circle of stars, where the eyes of the universe forever gaze upon us as we behold our image mirrored within each act of love."

Ma Terre I taste the Still of hibernating beasts the bristled fir that clings to jagged claws the ragged claws that groan for guttered caves the lonely howl of wolves convulsed to find the orphan whelp nursing at clicking berries cracked from winter's eyes and I the Mother of these howling pleas split silently within my twisted need.

Avatar Holding the moon's eye through fluid silver wings we arrive with the one conical answer burring angles into a circle Reaching the sky I do not wonder how to deeper know you The sphere of seasons unfold Firmaments against a single blade of grass.

Tapestry In the needled clicking over mind she knits with wool soft thoughts of yesterday and weaves his wrinkled laughter through her broken brow slippered feet, rocker worn, retrace remembered Sunday seams into the sunstretched smooth of summers carpeted vows she nods, replacing fraying fears of loneliness with satin sounds of a wedding gown and dream of his Hand in quilted warmth upon her Heart she purls the borders of their ribbed separation, and gently kissing casted lots upon the finished corners Folds it over the Earth.

All poems Copyright © 1996 Ann Creer. All rights reserved.