A Quick Tale

 

On a dusty track through a dusty mind
Shallow footprints tracked through time
He follows them to see what he’ll find
When he reaches the horizons line

A beaten path through thick bush land
Never farmed by any hand
Holding aloft a burning brand
A weary traveller in clothes once grand

In a large grass covered clearing
With the sun overhead baking, searing
Listening close to the voice he’s hearing
This great journey’s end is nearing

On a rivers shore of pale stones
Stands a figure all alone
Dull in colour like sun bleached bone
No longer does the traveller roam

©Aarron Mondello
8/5/2018

 

Rain Dancer

 

Coolness trickling

Tickling

In lines down your skin

A bone deep chill

A thrill

Enticement felt within

To sing and dance

To spare a glance

All thought washed away

Cavorting leaping

Dancing

Through the day

Laughter tinkling

Water sprinkling

Steps as light as air

Patterns glowing

Flowing

Through the dancers steps so fair

All the while

Glowing smiles

Masking joyful strain

Music made

Footprints fade

Dancing in the rain

 

©Aarron Mondello

13/6/2018

The Poetess

 

 

The Poetess in her overalls
On a stump atop a hill
A breeze ruffling through the grass
Though all else around is still

 

Her head is tilted back
Staring up at cloudless skies
Visions of her life
Flash across her eyes

 

In her hand she holds a pen
A book rests upon her lap
A graceful flowery hand
Covers pages front and back

 

Her mouths hangs wide and open
Her soft singing on the wind
Notes becoming letters
As they spiral through her pen

 

The letters splash like waves
In shifting changing whirls
Forming graceful poetry
As her many tales unfurl

 

Her poems grow slowly stronger
Carrying her pain away
Painting happy memories
In a light as bright as day

 

She sat in timeless stillness
Until every page was full
Put down her book, walked away
And followed heavens pull

 

©Aarron Mondello
6/6/2018

Tarmon Gaidon

 

 

Draghkar wings black the skies

Trollocs loose guttural cries

Dark hounds lope with easy strides

While in the shadows Myrddraal hide

 

Dreadlords cast about the Power

Lightning falls in crackling showers

Aes Sedai and Asha’man

Soldiers all make ready to stand

 

Wolf brother hunting with his pack

The nations all stand at the Dragon’s back

The Gambler fights with a fevered eye

On the Shepherds shoulders salvation lies

 

Sound the horns of Tarmon Gaidon

Rally the Sisters from Tar Valon

Summon the Spears ready to dance

See Shayol Ghul razed by the Dragons hand

 

29/5/2018

 

A poem written by Aarron Mondello using characters and events from the book series The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson

Sounds

Sitting in near silence

A whisper in the trees

The gentle hum of passing cars

The softer buzz of working bees

 

A distant trilling birdsong

The padding of a dogs paws

The whir of a whipper snipper

As someone mows their lawns

 

Distant shouts of children playing

At the school just down the street

The dog yawns as she comes up

To snuff and sniff my feet

 

The tin shed roof is ticking

As it heats up in the sun

The distant wail of sirens

Herald heroes at the run

 

The buzzing of a fat fly

Swooping ‘round my head

The soft scritch scratch of branches

Rubbing on the shed

 

The neighbors gate starts squealing

His red ute rumbles home

Reverse signal beeping

A high pitched warning tone

 

The far off sound of a helicopter

Rotors spinning fast

As a rattling trailer and rumbling truck

Go thundering speeding past

 

That’s all the sounds I hear

Sitting in a seat

Placed in the sun in my backyard

A sleeping cat beneath my feet

 

©Aarron Mondello

22/5/2018

Realities

 

Misty visions twirling

Swirling through my head

Vivid other realities

Fill my heart with dread

 

Darkest thoughts growing

Filling out behind my eyes

Vivid other realities

Coloured with feared lies

 

Demons come creeping

Hunting me in sleep

Through vivid other realities

Nightmares to make me weep

 

Tainted visions played out

Dreams in my sleeping mind

Vivid other realities

Vivid wrongful lives

 

©Aarron Mondello

21/5/2018

The Sun-kissed Man II

Calloused hands

Hard and black

Grime and dirt caked in

Dusty jeans

A light blue singlet

Tobacco fills a rusty tin

 

Sitting in

A rocking chair

On a faded porch

Watching as

The red sun sets

A glaring heaven torch

 

His body’s tired

His bones ache

His muscles stiff and sore

Yet he will rise

Fresh and ready

With the coming of the dawn

 

Sitting peaceful

In the twilight

Thinking of the days he roamed

No regrets

The Sun-kissed Man

In his exile all alone

 

©Aarron Mondello

16/5/2018

6pm

6pm

 

I can hear the screaming

Some beasts infernal bleating

What could be the meaning

Of these screams that aren’t retreating

 

Look out through the door

Down a slightly shadowed hall

My  stomach on the floor

Towards me demons crawl

 

My knees are weak and knocking

The sight is more than shocking

To left and right heads cocking

Wearing smiles that are mocking

 

Sweat on my forehead’s beading

What are these demons needing

Insights flash revealing…

 

My children just need feeding

 

©Aarron Mondello

11/5/2018

Last Night

 

I saw your eyes in the shadowed night
Shining with an inner light
And all my fears washed away
When I saw in your eyes you meant to stay

You tickled my neck with your whispers
As softly spoken as velvet slippers
The promises you made caused me to sweat
Sultry sentences with veiled threat

And as we lay in the pale moonlight
Your glowing skin a beautiful sight
Nothing could prepare me for what came next
You plunged a dagger into my chest

A gurgling rattle sounded my last breath
I lay with you and succumbed to death
The last thing I saw as I finally died
Your gleeful smile spreading wide

©Aarron Mondello
5/5/2018

 

Into the Sand

 

The crashing of waves
The clashing of steel
As men battle by the sea
Spreading back along
The bloody sand
The ravens start to feed

The tang of salt
The reek of blood
The cries of dying men
A dull thudding
Of a horse’s hooves
Galloping down the sand

Night falls slow
One lone figure
Remains standing on the shore
Gazing blank eyed
At the death about
Wondering what he was fighting for

When the sun rose
Early the next day
The man was lying dead
Not one soul
Was left to fight
Into to the sand they bled

©Aarron Mondello
29/4/2018