Ruth Asch – Three Poems



The sun is a golden mouth,
telling Earth what she is;
Drawing her figure, slowly, from shadows,
noting each line and colour,
spilling bright embellishments
muttering in dark curves.

I laugh and blush and tingle;
feel urged to reply.

Come evening,
a flaming pen hovers in the sky.
I gather thoughts, clear my throat;
but now a burning baton
draws into the air
a thousand wailing voices.
They stream into my eyes and ears
as I am being erased
by soft white clouds.

A Singer´s Voice

They said her voice had no vibrato.
But vibrancy was its internal coil,
its tingling surge, as strong and smooth,
as slender-lithe as lily-stalk;
a column hinting at eternity,
green resonance ‘alive!’,
and vulnerability.
Lily-like – aloft it spread
its cupped and tapered delicacy,
shining in the soundless shadows.

A Walk in Charpentier

Through a forest pillared trunks reverberate,
gliding one upon another.
Serried ranks of copper, brass and darkened bronze;
wrinkled scales like fingers of an ancient one,
congregate in ringing chords;
strobes of shadow reach through cluttered mould.

On our faces splash the leaves of light and shade,
lapping into mud-green heights,
filtering a lofty slant of sky-day beams
– blue-edged, flecked with gossamer – to sunshine dowels
where the forest slowly wheels
rolling onwards, destiny unknown .

Violet scent, grey-shivers, floating tones of dark.
The far clashes of thunder
peel our shelter; then cascades come thrumming down,
wind whips through, branches mesh in close embrace –
’till all fades in moist air,
rich moss, and the pattering of silver beads.


Author’s Statement on Beauty

I think that beauty, in essence, is the manifestation of whatever is deeply good and true. It is seen in the loveliness everywhere around us, heard in inspired music, felt when we witness a noble deed, when we experience ecstatic or self-forgetful love. Beauty is not different for the sake of it, though it often seems to strain at the boundaries it heals rather than breaks, but wherever it is found we feel uniqueness, a specialness (even if it is the nth sunset we have seen!) which is the mark of the personal… for me, beauty is the breath of God flowing through his creation.


Ruth Asch is a poet, in rare moments when peace and inspiration coincide. She is also a mother, and sometimes a teacher. She writes in many genres and enjoys translating poetry from other languages. St Austin Press printed a book of her poems Reflections in 2009 and she has been published in many journals since, such as Meditteranean Poetry, Classical Poets, Poetry Atlas, Bamboo and Ghazal Page.