OF CUPS AND CASTLES

I came kicking and screaming into open verse poetry, insisting that poetry had to rhyme.  It is only of late that I've learned the poetry of creating word pictures.   This poem was my first effort at writing open verse in a  workshop led by Shari Wagner in 2012.
 
     THE  CUP
Eloquent with age
secrets lie within
your chipped porcelain
of lips that drank
from your communal cup
cool, clear water
from some unknown well.
    *****

.....and this was my second effort

   IRELAND

I long to go to Ireland,
away from its cities
into the green hills
to stand in a circle of stones
placed by ancient Celts.

I long to see the lochs,
deep and mysterious
with secrets as old as time.
I want to stand
in a great stone castle
whose walls have withstood
the onslaught of centuries,
holding secrets of bold knights
and shy maidens,
and listen to the whispers
of voices long stilled..

I want to stand in the green fields
where sheep graze,
and  see  heather
on the moors releasing
its sweet fragrance
into crisp, clear air.

Then, I want to step into
a thatch-roofed cottage
for a spot of tea
to ponder long
the things I have seen.