The poetry of Michael Heyd

This and That

This poem is a strongbox
locked in a vault
behind a bolted door
inside a maze
at the heart of a jungle,
awaiting the one who wields
the severing sword, perceives
the hidden path, pronounces
the magic phrase.

That poem is a window
into a room of wonders
and doors into other rooms and corridors;
other windows, other eyes.
Sometimes, beyond, you glimpse
a garden of delights.
Sometimes, peering in,
you recognize yourself
in its disguise.




In the Library

Sprawled between the bookshelves

like an island siren,

her hair thick, tumbling coils

of russet kelp, her face

the bloom of a sea anemone,

her summer shift a carpet of primrose

cloaking slopes and headlands,

all guess and glimpse and hints of Paradise,


she smiles, and a marlin leaps

in the deep sea of my heart,

in that forever between one moment

and the next.

Michael Heyd’s poetry journey began in childhood when he submitted the winning last line in a limerick contest.  During his 42-year career as a hospital librarian he continued writing and occasionally published poems in literary magazines including Outerbridge, Poet Lore, and West Branch.  Now retired, Mike is writing more poems between seemingly endless rounds of Words with Friends in central Pennsylvania where, except for a year at graduate school in upstate New York, he has lived his entire life .

One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.