Chalice of Gold and Steel

[katepoet]

This poem just won an Honorable Mention in the West Virginia Poetry Society annual competition. What do you think?

Chalice of Gold and Steel

Leaves losing their green youth turn red and burnt orange in the fall.
Winter slows the sap as Nature chooses life to husband.
Spring and summer become echoes, faint shadows put on hold.
Open fields welcome mammals grown plump with fat; birds take wing.
Crystal coats of ice in bright moonlight shine; branches break.
Oaks and maples bend only so far; they fracture, wanting steel.

To the pasture in the yellow light of dawn I will steal,
climb the split rail fence, gripping tightly so as not to fall.
Seeking shelter from the chill breeze, I cross to the windbreak,
slide the slot of my coffee cup open, heat to husband.
I watch the chickadees land in the poplars, my thoughts wing
to your warmth last winter when you gave me your hand to hold.

Fearful of loss - my love was almost more than heart could hold -
afraid that you would want another, who your fire would steal.
knowing there were lovers in your past waiting in the wing
hoping, sure you'd come back when your love for me took a fall;
feelings for you I parceled out, so my heart to husband.
I doled them out in measured doses, holding fast the brake.

Love, a fragile thing, needs little jarring to bend and break;
or, love is a strong chalice that all joy and pain will hold.
If two souls pledge forever to be true wife and husband,
the chalice of their love can become gold upon the steel.
Whether the spring of love, the steamy summer or the fall,
Love's rejoicing lifts their souls to fly upon its swift wing.

When I loved you last year the wind was so cold and blowing
hard, it arose from the last time my heart was made to break .
Fear drove me to the cliff at the top of the waterfall
praying, hoping you would not loosen your strong, bracing hold;
Willing that my snowy north pole would hold fast to your steel
so love might flourish. I would no longer my heart husband.

Winter signals she will come but you are now my husband;
you come across the pasture and nestle me 'neath your wing.
Other women know there is no flame for them to steal;
your radiance, a signpost flashing out, "These vows won't break."
No matter where I go or what I do, your hand I hold;
into the endless shelter of your love I gladly fall.

Loving you is a fall that might have caused my heart to break;
crafted of gold and steel, our love is a mighty stronghold,
yet light enough, husband, to lift us up on feathered wing.

[katepoet]

To write this type of poem, one selects six words of certain kinds and rotates them on the end of the lines in a particular order. Lines must have the same syllabic or foot count.