Showing posts with label A Motley Palette. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Motley Palette. Show all posts

Sunday, July 5, 2026

LEGEND OF THE MOONLIT PATH

By Yasen Vedrin
(A Motley Palette)

A legend whispered from a shell to me
About the moonbeams born of love and light.
A tale so innocent, so pure and free,
That I am ready to whisper it in rhyme tonight.

In ancient times, the sea was wild and grim,
With rolling waves that brought out death and fear.
Its waters could not shine, its view was dim,
And darkness swallowed all its days and cheer.

But rumors started of a magic spell.
A heavy curse that came from greed of old.
The sea would calm down, if it found to dwell
A single sign of love, more pure than gold.

Pirates and sailors didn't trust a word
Of what was whispered even by the gale,
Yet still in barrels, away from being heard,
They piled up the metal, bright and pale.

But look – upon a ship by chance delayed,
A traveler climbed, so humble, quiet, and meek.
Despaired by heavy life and choices made,
He chose an unconquered shore to look and seek.

He was not rich. He only held inside
A red notebook with verses good and grand.
A little bag across his shoulder tied,
And for the ticket – all the coins in hand.

Thus sailed the ship amidst the heavy tide,
The blowing wind had filled the canvas white.
The heavy clouds began the stars to hide,
And ocean shadows grabbed it in the night.

And look, the sea began to roar and swell.
The curse was lurking, hidden everywhere.
With heavy waves inside the rooms it fell,
And struck the helpless poet with despair.

“The life is done!” – the man had softly said –
“I found no love! Good luck was never mine!
If I am meant to drown – let waves ahead
Cover me up, I am accursed this time!”

The sailors drowned and vanished without trace,
Drunk from the heavy grog they liked to sip.
The poet sighed his final tear of grace,
And leaped into the dark waves from the ship.

A magic spell it was or just a song,
But at the bottom he beheld a maid.
An angel-face, a messenger so strong,
Deep in the cold and fearsome depths displayed.

With her own hands she lifted him above,
And looked at him with fairy, dreaming eyes.
He could not speak a single word of love,
Except to watch in silence and surprise.

His life returned, not lost into the deep.
He breathed again upon a lonely strand.
Looked at the mermaid, falling in love so deep.
Her face – a moon in darkness of the land.

He gave the book and told her, soft and low:
“My only savior, you are all I see!
The waters drowned the others long ago.
Take in return the dreams that live in me!

My heart is there, in gentle words displayed!
And every joy I didn't live to view!
I’d follow you in waters with no shade,
And in this flash, I vow myself to you!”

The ocean and its waves grew calm and still.
Amidst the clouds, the moon began to rise.
A magic beam shot down with all its will
Into the stranger’s and the woman’s eyes.

They touched their hands, so softly, on the crest,
They started walking o’er the ocean floor…
The moonlit path reminds us of the best –
A beautiful love, a miracle from before.

Come you as well into the story blue.
A poet waits for you and grieves inside.
Whispered by ancient shells, the legend's true...
Perhaps it is! Along the rising tide.

MUSIC FOR TWO

By Yasen Vedrin
(A Motley Palette)

When you whisper softly to me: Stay! –
Then everything in us will feel brand new.
The wide expanse with music then will play
With pre-classic and romantic melodies too.

The music score will take its flight with wings
And call us to the clouds that drift above.
The bow will turn into an arrow that springs.
The violin – into a heart pouring with love.

The flute’s enchanting and delightful sound
Will be a stream of water from the spout.
The piano – a soft roof-drop on the ground,
So quiet, to hear your whisper speak out.

The guitar with its gentle, ringing chime
Will quickly turn into a birdhouse, small.
To wake us from our sleep at morning time,
And shed a ray of light upon our curls and all.

It will be a wondrous, fairy moment, true,
When you whisper to me that I must remain...
Because the love is a conductor for you,
And music – always for a pair, in the rain...

HERBARIUM

By Yasen Vedrin
(A Motley Palette)

Inside my poor soul a herbarium of leaves
Reminds me of you with its colorful spaces.
The breath of the spring in your sweet smile achieves,
And you fold my heart in your summer embraces.

With small, gentle bundles of soft, glowing light,
The riddles are painted right into my keeping.
The leaves are now born. Memories of days, bright –
So endlessly tender, so fast and so fleeting.

The collection of leaves – heavy with love's art,
One after another its pages discloses.
And each recollection – like scrolls in the heart –
Into a wild fire within my eyes closes.

And how can I say that you aren't by my side,
When each single shade but completes your emotion?
If I were the Earth – by your leaves caught and tied,
I’d make a bright spring start to grow into motion...

If I were the Sky – with south winds I’d descend
To be a warm summer in palms that are slender.
And thousands of leaves once again would contend
In this fair herbarium of love, pure and tender.

My soul is completely filled up with each leaf.
A single tear gleams. No, I will not be crying...
I'm happy that even in eternity’s brief,
I’ll find you right there, if my gaze keeps on trying...

A MOTLEY PALETTE

By Yasen Vedrin
(A Motley Palette)

I grew so used to watching through your eyes –
Deep down, to where your very heart would stay.
I captured all the mornings that would rise
And caressed sunsets at the end of day.

I felt you – burning hot, and filled with rain.
I touched the atmospheres where dreams would start.
I took you – innocent, and blamed with pain.
I envisioned you – with traits, and lines apart.

I loved you – transparent, and wrapped in haze.
I warmed you up amidst the snow and gale.
I dreamed of you – in sad and happy days,
With joys and shadows of a fearful tale.

I thirsted for you – blooming, green and white.
I vowed you to my manly, secret gleam.
I shielded you from autumn’s yellow blight.
I drank you up – both sober and in dream.

You have become my motley palette, true,
Within your shades I found your form and sign.
I grew so used to looking straight at you
And turning all my thoughts into a line.

I fly with you when morning light expands,
And in the sunset fall asleep, inside.
Satiated with love... Yet through the lands
Unsatisfied I wake in you – you in my tide.