Reflections on the Sea

I love you like I love the inland sea,

In all your many moods and temperatures.

In silence, as in storms, the sea is free.

And you, with ocean eyes, have such alure

That leads a sailor on to certain death

In Winter waters, blanketed in ice.

You’ve bought my beating breast with heated breath,

And having known your lips, I’ve paid the price.

But as the Summer waters love the Sun,

So too, your eyes at rest are kind and warm,

And find my heart-strings, let them loose, undone,

And in these gentle waters, lose their form.

     So if you ever wonder what I see

     When looking in your eyes, I see the sea.


- by William Bednar

Chasing Shadows

Have you ever loved a heart that’s lost?

Or travelled to a land that never was?

Perhaps your shadow smiled at you once,

And you weren’t confused because

You hadn’t stopped believing

Adventure’s there for you to find.

But as you grew you met the world

And daydreams slowly `scaped your mind.


You soon forgot to see the stars as equals.

But in your memory hides a rhyme

You never really lost,

Though it gathered dust with time.

So if you really look when troubled,

You’ll find that you’ve been chasing shadows

Of people you have since forgot,

Though they reside inside the hallows

Of your lonely, child’s heart,

And run along your aging spine.

If you ever spot one, ask

"Is this shadow yours, or mine?"


- by William Bednar

Tink

It’s not every day you see a girl with butterfly wings

Just standing on the sidewalk.

It’s funny how mundane things

Like ten dollar wings, streetlamps, and kindergarten chalk

Can conjour such a pondrous fey,

Who waits by starlight for her Pan,

Hair undone, forgotten bangs, astray.

It’s not every girl, reminds the boy inside the man.


- by William Bednar

Something Loaned

I wonder if you ever think of me.

If ever your mind gets free

And wanders toward my face,

Or if you ever find your heart out of place,

Not in it’s usual spot.

That happens to me a lot.


I’m very talented at losing my heart,

Which, I know, is not incredibly smart.

I often find it hanging around pictures of you.

So if you find it, and don’t know what to do

Maybe just hold on to it a little while.

See if it fits your style.


You can give it back if it doesn’t match.

And don’t worry if you leave a scratch.

It’s not exactly new,

But it likes to be worn by you.

In my opinion, the best things loaned

Are things that have been dearly owned.


- by William Bednar

A Prayer

Let run the rivers fast with ink,

And fill my head with dreams, so writ

And rich fermented, as to help me think,

And see like dreamers, with their souls well lit.


- by William Bednar

A Dance With You?

I told myself I wouldn’t fall for a girl like you again,

But there’s something in that knowing smile

That if you’d only tell me when,

I’d see if we could dance awhile,

And you could step on my feet,

Or I could forget the moves,

But we’d be swaying to our own beat

And it won’t matter if we scuff our shoes

Because I’ll see me in your eyes

And you’ll be wrapped up in my arms,

And we’ll be one with the singer’s cries

Beneath the moonlight, bright and warm.

Blame it on the Summer weather,

But I think that we could fall together.

Is that something you would like to do?

Could I have a dance with you?


- by William Bednar

Invocation

Take my hand,

And write with it.

Find my page,

And fill it up.

Search my soul,

And empty it.

Hear my thoughts,

And give them form.

Watch the color of my eyes,

And let it mirror all the patterns of my mind.

Paint my heartbeat with your breath,

And speak to me a story I can tell.


-by William Bednar

From Bard To Bard

Would that I could write you down to Earth,

Use your magics so to set remembrance

Of my good art upon the common hearth,

And match your place in learned reader’ deference.

From bard to bard, I beg what muse you found,

That graced you with god-touched poet’s skill,

So when my mortal frame is lost to ground

My memory measures up with dreamer Will.


-By William Bednar

Ice

The lustre of your silvery eyes

Outshines the winter waters, cold

And has a cool, familiar air

That only snowy blankets hold.

Safe and soothing, blue like ice

That glistens on a glassy lake

In mid-December while at home,

That’s showered in white, snowy flakes.

The majesty of winter storms,

The power in the blizzard, white,

Is there, behind those frosty panes

And reveals an inner might.

That cool, familiar, soothing air

That only snowy blankets hold

Is well protected by this gale

When circumstances need you bold.

The powerful, majestic storms,

The blizzards in their wintry might

Are safe and strong, are reassured

By one unfailing, snowy sight.

The mid-December time at home,

The water tucked in glistening flakes,

Reflected in your ice blue eyes

Is soothing, cool, like glassy lakes.


-by William Bednar

Stags

In a clearing in the woods, two brothers fight.

They ram each other, wrestle with their pointed crowns.

The winner gains the power and the right

To rule their father’s ancient, sylvan grounds

And will have the favor of the fairest doe.

So they lock their antlers, tearing from the start.

The loser has to face the snows alone.

A solitary creature is the hart. 

But come the winter, brothers lose their crowns

And in the spring the hope for better years abounds.