The Poetorialist
November 2011 Featured Poet

Gay Cannon

Gay Reiser Cannon
Born in Kansas City, Missouri, Gay Reiser Cannon grew up in Amarillo, TX. She received a BA in English Literature with an emphasis on poetry from the University of Houston in 1969. An active member of several writer's groups including Dallas Ft. Worth (DFW) Writer's Workshop and Poetry Express, her work has been featured in numerous small magazines and online poetry journals.  Most recently she has served as a moderator at OneStopPoetry, and is currently moderating at dVersePoets, with a bi-monthly article called FormForAll. In addition to writing, Gay is an accomplished classical pianist and an active supporter of figure skating and serves as USFS figure skating judge.

Gay has a daughter and two sons with her late husband Don Cannon, a professor of electrical engineering.  She is currently living in Port Aransas, Texas, a small fishing village on a barrier island across the bay from Corpus Christi.

Gay Reiser Cannon can be found at Beachanny By The Sea, Beachanny's World, Beachanny's Texas, and dVersePoets


I am led to a pool by a blue butterfly.
The path there runs uphill through struggle and sorrow.
At the pool I seek answers within its deep sky;
I am given a sword which I'll only borrow.

The path next continues through struggle and sorrow.
With a blue butterfly to lead me and guide me,
I carry the sword gift which I'll only borrow;
in its blade lies the truth shining bright here beside me.

With a blue butterfly to lead me, it guides me
to the halls of Tuatha de Danann, magically lit
by the truth of this blade unsheathed here beside me.
In the glade of the moon D�nedain again sit.

From the halls of Tuatha de Danann, magically lit
to the woods of warlords dried dark with spilled blood.
By the glade of the moon D�nedain again sit
while invoking the spell to cleanse sin with a flood.

In washed woods of warlords dried dark with spilled blood,
rain would flow to blue pools that reflect the deep sky,
peace invoked by a spell that cleansed sin with a flood;
I return with the sword and the blue butterfly.

The North wind swears and autumn rains fall.

Strangers gone, the locals walk the beach alone.
Markers out to heed a coming squall;
on the shore a broken shell crushed by a stone.

A heart lies beating in the sand
rejected by her one true love.
I leave it where he aband-
oned it in the eddies of a cove.

Autumn looks the same on shore;
yet the heat's cooled, the steam gone.
Perhaps the owner of the heart will pour
herself back on the beach, restored again to one.

The North winds praise and teardrops fall
I walk the beach again alone;
your memory still holds me in its thrall
I remember us and watch the sinking sun.

*Inspired by Chinese Love Poems

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 2011 * All Rights Reserved


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