Ina Schroders-Zeeders's Open Salon Blog

Rondeau redoublé - Maybe it was passion

Wed, 21 Mar 2012 16:03:31 -0400

A moment ago when your eyes met mine,
just seconds it was, it seemed longer though,
it was all in this look; it wasn’t fine.
Now I have seen you, your mind I do know.

Of course it is true that all was just show,
maybe it was passion, maybe it was wine?
I should have stayed up, and not looked below
a moment ago, when your eyes met mine.

It was a moment not very divine.
How could our morals have sunk and so low!
We should not have crossed this very thin line,
just seconds it was, it seemed longer though.

We went with the lust, we went with the flow.
About what we did, we should not much whine.
We did both want to make love to and fro.
It was all in this look; it wasn’t fine.

Had there been time for me just to resign
-and I was in a hurry, apropos-,
maybe I would not have called you a swine.
Now I have seen you, your mind I do know.

As we were stuck in this lame status quo,
hoping your motives were not that malign,
I progressed to undress and did it real slow.
How was I to know that you strained your spine
a moment ago…

Once you were in this book

Sat, 17 Mar 2012 16:03:18 -0400

You were somewhere in the pages
hiding and waiting to be found
while I skipped through the book looking
for answers. I finally saw
where I wouldn’t look: between lines,
between moments to breathe and read,
there you were, I could feel you, sensed
all about you, your skin on mine
I felt your yearning for love. You
were somewhere in the pages, I
found your hiding place when I stopped
reading, and started loving you.

indigo night

Wed, 7 Mar 2012 11:03:57 -0500

while waiting for the night-bird’s song
this indigo night we have snow
in snow you can not wait too long
the night-bird might be frozen stiff
let’s wait some more, if we don’t go
there ‘s always if, in deadly snow
we might find out it still does live

this indigo night we have snow
just walking in dreams with no sound
slender with grace the trees do bow
deep under the load that they bear
we know there is wildlife around
eyes lighten, move, not to be found
while hiding in holes everywhere

in snow you can not wait too long
still the night-bird might be living
if all is well and nothing wrong
so we stand here and wait some more
for the music it’d be giving
all are waiting, all the living
like we waited in nights before

the night-bird might be frozen stiff
how will we know what happened here
so many creatures will not live
by dawn, they’ll be deep frozen stills
a cry somewhere, of dead and fear
may be a stray dog or a deer
or something that the night-bird kills

let’s wait some more, if we don’t go
we may hear how the night-bird sings
and if it does, then we will know
that what we heard was more than life
it is one of the finest things
when in the snow a night-bird sings
and keeps it up till after five

there’s always if, in deadly snow
what if we stay and never leave
why would we bother now to go
is it much better where we live
is there more hope or more belief
where all are hurting in their grief
while here the night bird wants to give

we might find out it still does live
the bird, the world, the hope for more
than what this winter had to give
if we just wait here in this cold
we have survived this way before
it is too far to the front door
so what we freeze and won’t be old

Veritas - my book is out March 2, 2012

Sun, 25 Sep 2011 08:09:52 -0400

This book is out now

http://www.amazon.com/Veritas-Ina-Schroders-Zeeders/dp/0983676461/ref=sr_1_15?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1331059645&sr=1-15

Unfiltered Poetry By Netherlands Author Ina Schroders-Zeeders
Love, Life, Loss And The Sea; All In One Volume

Sacramento, CA – Each section of this poetry volume by Ina Schroders-Zeeders is moving and begs you to keep reading. There is realism in her words that brings you in and makes it relatable. No subject is left unturned, leaving you as a new fan of this beautiful poetry and author.
Truth and virtue, astonishment and wonder. Real life can be exciting, depressing, and confusing, but it is certainly always fascinating. In Veritas, the new poetry volume by author Ina Schroders-Zeeders, you will feel every exposed emotion as it connects with you and ultimately leads to your own personal contemplation. Whether as limitless as the oceans or as confining as our surroundings, these authentically stimulating pieces will leave you in awe.

Veritas is a 192 page poetry volume. Available on paperback with a retail price of $13.99, and eBook with a retail price of $5.99. The ISBN is: 978-0-9836764-6-1. Published through Winter Goose Publishing and available now through all major online retailers. For more information or to request a review copy, contact Winter Goose Publishing at info@wintergoosepublishing.

About Ina Schroders-Zeeders:
Ina Schroders-Zeeders was born in the Netherlands, on the beautiful tourist-destination island of Terschelling. Her fascination with the sea began at an early age as she and her mother would frequently accompany her Merchant-Marine-Captain father on his adventures. Ina has spent her whole life enjoying books of all kinds, staying involved with libraries and book sales, until finally becoming a novelist in the late nineties. She remains on Terschelling with her husband and three sons.

About Winter Goose Publishing:
Winter Goose Publishing
Helping You Discover Your Next Favorite Book
Wintergoosepublishing.com
info@wintergoosepublishing

The tradesman

Fri, 29 Jul 2011 15:07:04 -0400

You prayed so hard while we made love

but love did not came from above,

it is a trade, in bed it’s made

as far as you cared anyway then.

The moves, the moaning and the end

an arcade of some bodies bent

a violent action following erection.

To you that was what made the trade.

You came and thought that love was made,

you called it: heavens satisfaction.

Your love was not sent from above

as you would throw me down to earth

and made this trade an act of dirt.

How could you call this making love

when you wanted to pay me off

the truth was more than you could bear

You left in tears and went somewhere

you had enough, I didn’t follow.

The trade of making love is just an art of sorrow.