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Ira White
For My Daughter Chrysalis
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Drifting
lazily in a beam of sunlight
Shining on a clearing in the forest,
Rising like a mote or
Falling like a leaf,
Wings fluttering,
You alight on the flower of my heart.
Sweet baby,
Your smiles are rays of sunlight
And your tears dew in the flower’s cup
That butterflies come every morn to drink.
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© Ira White
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Two Dancers
The two
dancers bowed when they met,
Their dance had just begun.
Full of the joy and vigor of youth
They clasped each other tight
And danced away the night.
When at last the dance’s end drew nigh,
One dancer frowned and
Glanced at the door anguish in his eyes.
The music should never stop!
The dance should never end.
“It’s unfair! It’s unfair!”
The dancer cried.
The other dancer smiled a beamy smile and said,
“How well the musicians played,
How glad I am that I could come.
What an experience this has been!
But now we’re tired and must go home.”
The music suddenly stopped
And as the last echoes died
The two dancers clasped each other tight
And danced out into the night.
© Ira White
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Low Tide
The fog
curls around the cliffs
Like the fingers of a thief around your thick wallet.
All is silent, eerily silent
As if the ocean has inhaled and
Been caught holding its breath.
A seagull sits on a rock not far from shore
Statuelike, it rests waiting
For sunlight to break through the overcast.
Suddenly a breeze kisses
The calm water, the sun pushes through the fog
And the first breaker of the incoming tide
Tumbles against the bird’s perch.
Before the silence is broken by the water’s crash,
Before the rock is covered by white spray,
The statue comes alive leaping
Into the bright sky
Complaining bitterly of the disturbance.
© Ira White
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