"Accolades For Valor" by Matthew Johnson (1993): "She goes through life, gliding, a benevolent seer/ Stopping constantly to aid those in need, those not even dear/ I, an individual, swept up in the storm/ Of a woman, who, in search of herself, defies the norm/ As I, an outcast, fighting myself, yet daring to believe/ That if I ask her aid and succor (and possibly love) she won’t leave/ Giving her heart, mind and soul to every known cause/ Causing me to look about my selfish malestrom, and in introspection give pause/ For all her words, she won’t write about me, does she fail to perceive/ What the object knows to be true and what make believe—/ Words rarely present, presence much more of one/ Is to wish for more as good as wishing for the sun?/ Energy is precious, as I know well to be true/ And I am curious to know, Lorraine, what I can ask of you/ Names are important, they make us who we are/ Much more important than people give credit, by far/ The masses may cry “Lori!” and let them do so!/ For the numbers who call that cannot understand/ They will never know the Lorraine inside, the one crying to live/ Will be forever frustrated by those whose minds are like a sieve/ There may be those who rob her of her world, let them scratch the skin/ They are as pinpricks to the steel within/ These accolades are not exaggeration, not pretentious/ I Just want you to know that there is at least one who is conscious/ That the world is a better place for the life of a woman named Lorraine."

Thursday, September 22, 1994

Amorous Knight

The lady fair sits on the green;
In her eyes, the moonlight's gleam.
Loneliness plauges her inner soul.
She's stiffed of diamonds; left with coal.

The lady fair stares into the stream;
a soloist in a reflection team.
Forlornness cascades from the sky.
The moment's essence is bitter and dry.

Suddenly, another is in the mirror image.
She knows not whether to grin or grimace.
The lady fair's fear turns to hope.
Her eyes unveil an all new scope.

A cavalier, chivalrous and true,
raises the maiden from her blues.
The princely knight brings the moon to her feet,
the stars to her eyes, and alas, their lips meet.

When they must part during the day,
they carry the other's heart away.
Every flower brings her face to his mind.
Every moonbeam reflects her find.

The lady fair sits on the green.
The gallant knight fulfilled her dream.

September 22, 1994

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posted by Lorraine Courigan at 12:47 PM

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