Take Off Your Dress
by Terri Hadley Ward
Take off your dress,
cast to the fire the binding, pinching life
holding captive the soft hills
of your goddess body.
"You must not offend."
"You must not entice."
In the dark womb of the forest,
a clearing patiently waits
for the press of your naked feet
against the earth.
Gnarled arms entwined, grandmother trees
pray to the moon.
Take off your dress,
cast to the fire the dry husk, painted mask
of your shrunken life.
Listen to the blood moon music thrumming
in your soul, and hear on the screaming She wind,
the beat of your own wild heart.
Bio: Terri Hadley Ward is a writer and artist who gains her inspiration from being in nature. Originally a marketing writer, she now writes poetry and essays that celebrate the mystery and power of the sacred feminine. She lives in Hampshire County, WV, with her husband, Michael; sons, Zach, Kevin, and Connor; dogs Sadie and Frank, and cats Marco and Shadow. She nourishes her soul through writing, painting, yoga, meditation, gardening, and hiking.
Winter Geisha
by Kim Hazelwood
Sunset fills a room
Full of flowers fading from the forest
Where snow drifts as
The green river over ices,
The thin gauze of grandeur
Near the jade green roseapple bedpost.
Honing the fine art of loving so many,
The lonely art of loving just one,
With moans of pleasure
How darkly the night falls
No justice with the Luna,
Peeking sideways through
The thin gauze of lace curtains
Bringing the crisp air closer,
Manipulating skinfolds,
Giving, giving, giving.
Radiator heat,
Grumbles a rumba beat.
She has stripped down too naked.
Trust is a hunter so lonely
For the Geisha,
Giving, giving, giving.
She wonders if he ever wonders
What she’s really thinking or feeling.
Cascading hair tumbles.
She leans back and falls and just lets go.
Always the Geisha,
Giving, giving, giving.
The lacy curtains charter a chill
Unfamiliar legs climb so briefly
And push the star apple bedspread akimbo.
Shivering a disagreeable degree of cold.
But the 4 o’clock Thursday guest,
Sometimes takes a longer rest.
It’s the best,
But ravages
Her heart apart.
Something dies, something lives.
Every now and then
She gets to really see him
Take off and arrive in that place
That piece of paradise that almost parades
The peacock of love.
For this puzzle of a man,
She sometimes cancels her 3.
Slips into jasmine lotus blossom steaming bathhouse bliss,
Caring what memories, what fragrance he takes away.
But trust is a lonely hunter,
For the Geisha
Giving, giving, giving.
Embers from a patio firepit,
Rise like tropical fireworks and fall like snow
Cruel joke,
The jazz of incendiary masquerades in intimacy,
A madness so far from fine.
He tips his glass and dips in slow dance
Her glissando heart .
He stays a little longer,
Quips a bit and it seeps into her fragmented soul,
She kisses him on the cheek, then sneaks one
Onto his lips,
Silently thanking him for the sweet fire of the illusion
Of love, however
Brief his stay.
Near the jade green roseapple bedpost.
Bio: Kim Hazelwood is the editor of this litzine and the author of CoyoteBat!. Last year she had the honor of being interviewed by The WInchester Star as one of the featured poets for 100,000 poets for change-a worldwide event. She was also one of the judges at the Poetry Out Loud National Recitation Contest at a local high school in November. She is thrilled that The Greensilk Journal has entered the tenth year of publication and that writers of every experience level continue to contribute.
