Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
Alone on the plain
Plain without beginning
Plain without ending
Alone on the plain
Somewhere
Around the fire
The depthless fire
Fire without heat
Fire without light
Trapped in the darkness
Beaten by the wind
Prey to soft sounds
We shudder
Alone on the plain
2007
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
Lie down.
Sit down
Stand up.
Run.
Walk.
Leap.
Whisper.
Speak.
Scream.
Scribble.
Write.
Draw.
Eat.
Breathe.
Sleep.
Make love.
Make war.
Make peace.
The sky is above you.
The earth is beneath you.
And water is all around you.
You are alive.
2006
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
By a gentle river
Waved by a silent breeze
Under deepening shades and shadows
They soared, my thoughts of you.
Scattered by evening’s final rays
Flitting toward the water’s edge
Dancing, singing, swirling, sighing
Never ending, my dreams of you.
Where they lead, I cannot tell
Why I follow, I do not know
Where they go, I wish to be
Anywhere, everywhere, visions of you.
Upward they float, dimmer they glow
Farther from me, farther from shore
I must go; I cannot stay
They have taken me — I am no more.
1998
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
He lives in a greenwood
that rolls down to the sea.
He sleeps under an oak
and dines under the elms.
He talks to animals
and has learned all their ways.
He is loved by the poor
whom he serves and protects.
He eats deer meat by day
and drinks warm ale by night.
He makes merry with maids
and sports too with his men.
His bow is known here, there
throughout the countryside
as is the bounty on
his handsome, golden head.
His life is goodly and rich
despite the risk of death.
It is what he chooses.
He would have no other.
And while he feasts and drinks,
laughing and making him merry,
is it his fault alone
he nevers hears the gunshot?
The stray shot that kills him
and the greenwood and sea,
the men, the maids, the ale,
leaving only 47th Street.
1998
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
Time filled a life with days
Life filled the days with love
Love that gave hope of joy
Love that gave birth to soul.
From the sea, love proclaimed
On the hills, love declared
In the woods, love shouted
Spectacle of madness.
A voice, a sigh, a cry
In the night, in the dark
Silent, still, elusive
Forgotten memories.
All that is left of love
A growing soul, a dying life
Stranded here forever
Frozen in living death.
1998
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
To touch your face
To hold your hand
To give you strength
To give you love
To go with you
Through life and time
With you, for you
To share your thoughts.
To walk through woods
Through fields and sands
Part of your life
You, part of mine.
It cannot be
Despite my love
But through my life
I’ll remember
A dream.
1998
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
The day was hot at Wrigley Field
The bats were hotter still.
The Phillies East led Phillies West
The score was 9-5.
It was the bottom of the ninth
Batters 1 & 2 had failed.
It was up to mighty Moreland
And Keith was 3 for 4.
So the man who fills the cleated shoes
Of wandering, homeless Mel
Came through again, he hit it out.
The score was 9-6.
Now it was the Penguin’s turn
He’d been an easy out that day.
He’d walked to first, he’d swung and missed.
The crowd was hardly thrilled.
But little Ron, that mighty bird,
Took aim and swung; he did not miss.
He hit it out, this time to right
And ho! The lead was down to two.
Now Gary Woods, a quiet guy,
Had grabbed the Sarge’s glove.
But he must have swiped a Sandberg bat.
He made his way to third.
Now Bowa’s turn, his glove was hot,
But, sad to say, his luck was not.
He hit it hard, he tried his best
But a glove was in his way.
So Larry stood, his face aflame,
He hung his head in shame.
He left the field, the end was come.
A fan shed a tear or two.
Phillies East bested Phillies West
Four times in a row.
It’s not a time to mourn the past
We are champions to the last.
1984
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
To hear and be heard
the shy whispers
and soft flutterings
of unfolding joy.
To see and be seen
Clear eyes reflect the grace,
wisdom and simplicity
of newborn love.
To touch and be touched
Not only mere hand
flesh against flesh,
but soul seeking soul.
To reach and be reached
Unbroken silence
and quiet glances
convey more than words.
To live and to love
The noble aspiration
and ignoble defeat
of humanity.
1997
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
Beneath skies midnight blue
An ocean roils.
Beneath trees darkest green
A river tumbles.
Beneath leaves rich in hue
Soft dewdrops glimmer.
Beneath the living world
My warm tears flow.
Then all is still
And cold.
1997
Copyright © Diane L. Schirf
Through the tangled shadow web
Through the silken curls of leaves
She appears, half in glory
Half obscured in modesty.
Beginning at the wheat field
Strolling up a hidden arc
Seeking solace from the clouds
When horses neigh, a dog barks.
Soon deserted, she moves on
Leaving a blurred trail of white
As the only evidence
That she has loved and been loved.
She reaches the top, far away
Haughty, like the queen she is
Glancing down at her subjects
But indifferent to their dreams.
Time is her sole enemy
As he gently draws her down
To the underworld she goes
There to rest her weary soul.
We may rise and live again.
1998