Man, Death and Their Mutual Friend

An original poem by Helena Noel

Might there be sweeter friend to man than Death?

  For Death, 'tis thee who, patient, holds the door.

Thy bedside watch endures 'til final breath,

  And thine the grasp our trembling hands secure.

A mother mourns the son beyond her reach,

  But thou, O Death, take each in thine embrace

To guard these guests within thy gothic keep,

  And how such saints are gladdened by thy face!

Yet would not all be hellish but for Christ?

  Without Death's King, thy keep? A brackish hole!

Thou wouldst leave all entrapped in lifeless night

  If not for Heaven's Light to grace each soul.

Thou dost indeed most sweetly hold the door,

  Yet thou art gate to He Who's sweet still more.

A Little More Boisterous Poem

In response to "A Quiet Poem" by Elaine Equi

We scream for a lot of reasons. Because we’re hurt,

because we’re trapped.

We scream for attention, to grab the eyes

of listless people around us.

The nail screams as a hammer drives its point home,

and so do we.

We scream for freedom, for confirmation

in our conformity, though really

It’s to let ourselves out.

Declare, As Men Among Fairies:

An original poem by Helena Noel

Tell, which steely auth, or law,

Doth  "mustn't" us our beds?

In hour of weary burden, saw

thee justice in this said?

Thou steal from ‘tween the teeth,

O fairy, sustenance and wine:

‘Twould seem a weak and gutless man’s

The fruit of thy design!

Be it the roar of doughty mirth
that quakes thy spritely core?

Or swagger’d waltz of red-blood men

that lillifies daintish ichor?

Thou churlish sprite who simpers ‘neath

The sheathéd olive boughs
Forbids the manly task of paying

Evil what ‘tis owed!

Say "NAY!" then roar and romp, ye men,
And plow thy rivals low!

Rest ye, and drink, and down the wine

That makes thy passions flow!

Ye fairies, steal among the lillies;

Dance thou amidst thy glens.

But lilac feet and ‘mustn't’ bleats

Shalln’t fairify true men!

My Prayer For Today: Thy Will Be Done

[photo] construction worker on the Empire State Building as it was being built in 1930. 

The whispered prayer on my lips today doesn't start with the Sign of the Cross.
 It starts with a laugh. Continues with "Lord! I'm scared!"
 And ends with a smiling "Thy will be most joyfully done."

Empty Cup

an original poem by Helena Noel Long has the romance of the night Out-bloomed the morning rose, And kiss that midst of Winter warmed Has hearts, in Summer, froze. This, 'cause light of lover's heart Is easy to behold When Nature sings out dirges of The truth of dark and cold.

My Dream Is You

an original poem by Helena Noel

Holy Love made manifest,

Bread for human hearts,

Cup of Life, we daily bless

The graces You impart.

I call to You unworthily,

Elated but abased.

Your Sacred Body, Precious Blood

are veiled in what we taste.

And wretched I, with longing eyes

affixed to monstrance throne,

am begging grace to see Your face.

My dream is You alone.

In The Splendor of You

original lyrics by Helena Noel For a moment, my heart can listen; Can hear above the shivers; Can hope for a voice, for a warming noise to melt my frozen hope.

Kintsugi Heart

 A poem of gratitude by Helena Noel:   

Dedicated to the ones who saw the gold.

She bears her heart's cracked and jagged edges
Timidly displayed as broken wares,

Simply Joy

an original poem by Helena Noel

This joy carves silver furrows
down my cheek

To Glimpse our King

an original poem by Helena Noel

Thy steadily rocking arms with sleeping child,
Thy peaceful contemplation of His face,

Amber'd Gown

an original poem by Helena Noel

 

Every year to songs of passing seasons Begun in Spring and sung 'til Autumn's Fife blooms in every meadow flowered dresses, blossoming as Nature springs to life. Green and incomplete sprouts the Flower winking on a waking Apple Tree, blushing white and pink at being naked, dressing after Winter, after sleep. No longer does the stir of wind gone past her whistle with the moan of tired trees. Sighs of cold, bare bark have turned to Laughter, to giggling, rustling sounds of shifting Leaves.

Reflecting Thee

 An original poem by Helena Noel

O burnish now the silver of my soul

And scour it with Thine everlasting Love!

Sacred Heartbeat

 an original poem by Helena Noel

The silver Rain's soft pattering
And lunar Glow through midnight shower,
The glassy Stars-- winking out,
Shy, from 'hind the Clouds this hour,
Seem to sing harmoniously:
"For Him twirl we Suns and Moons!"
With Winds that whirl in waving Trees,
Piping low their solemn Tune.