Poet laurels

I am staggered to have just been voted Poet Laureate of Elf Circle. It means so very much to me. With 1900 members, we have incredible amounts of talent and creativity in Elf Circle. I can only credit the inspiration I receive from living in our fantastic lands and all our amazing residents. I thank every one of you, dear friends. Hugz and love to you all, Bay.

Prayer to the Solstice, a poem

By Bay Sweetwater

I pray the solstice in its might
To turn the earth from dark toward light
Will turn me with it toward the bright
Of breaking dawn that follows night.

Conversation with an Autumn Leaf

A fallen leaf has a lot to say, if you catch it at the right moment. This moment was a rainy autumn day, when the linden trees still shimmered gold, and I watched one leaf come tumbling down. I wondered what it would be like to be a leaf and fall away from everything you’ve ever known.

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Falling Leaf

One autumn day I noticed a leaf hanging all afternoon by a thread of a bygone spider’s web, until finally the wind swept it away. I sympathized with the little leaf and wrote this poem as an ode to its bravery.

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Hold Dear the Amaranthine Dream

When I went out to my garden this October morning, there was only one rose left. It seemed anxious and afraid to be suddenly on its own, and cold. It also seemed to be asking a desperate question.
And so this poem. It uses the random “challenge words” that we writers at the Bardic Circle in Second Life choose at the end of each of our weekly gatherings. This week he words were: “Beyond, Amaranthine, Sunbeam, Whisper, Fragile”

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Last Words of the King of Summer

King of Summer sunflower with crownThis is the poem that won me the honor of the 2012 Poet Laureate title in the Elf Circle group in the virtual world of Second Life. Every year the 1,900 members choose their Poet Laureate by voting their favorite poems in a Bardic Competition, as in the days of old. This poem was inspired by a dying sunflower I saw bowing at the end of autumn to approaching winter.

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The loneliness of thorns, a poem


by Bay Sweetwater

Can a rose who blooms beyond the reach of summer sunbeam,
Awakening to feel the chill and loneliness of thorns,
Missing fragile whisper of companionable petals,
Hold dear the amaranthine dream wherein its flower was born?

The last rose of summer, in my garden this morning

It’s 4 a.m. and brightening

It’s 4 a.m. and Brightening
by Bay Sweetwater

In the center of the summer,
beside a wild river,
I found a tiny moment.

Speaking like a seashell
Its haunting echo said
It belonged to all Eternity.

Holding to its hand,
We wandered in the past
Through today, into the future.

It’s 4 a.m. and brightening.
My life has turned around.
I don’t know where I am.

My Real Home
Click to hear the tune by Lasswell that inspired this poem (vocals by State Shirt).   Yep, it’s real short, but straight from the heart.


Til love calls them home again, a poem

Til love calls them home again
by Bay Sweetwater

I’m forever dreaming of a room inside the tempest,
A music room, where blustering wind sits still,
And picks out haunting tunes of lost endearment,
On a harp o’ wild grasses from the radiant hills.

They say that what is past is lost forever
In the mists of time, but what if love
Could summon wind to find a bygone dream
And play it on the harp again, a different octave?

Dreams are wild and lonely things; away
From those who love them they lose form,
And mingle with the mists of time forever,
Til love calls them home again, in from the storm.

THEY Say, a poem

"Kobian"-photo courtesy Waseda University, Tokyo


by Bay Sweetwater

See that guitar player there? They say he’s just a dreamer.
And that girl having visions? Just too out of touch.
See that guy who turns his cheek? Just a troublemaker.
And that old guy with frizzy hair? He won’t amount to much.

O Robot, dry your tears, don’t listen to what THEY say.
No one at this party’s seeing clearly; it’s all a swirl
Of smoke and mirrors; no one sees into your soul;
They only see your steel and wires, though you might just save the world.