Night sky’s scrim beams on us. Heads tipped, eyes heavenward, cold crisp air embraces. Hope gleams bright, if we believe.
Heads tipped, eyes heavenward, stars shine, diminish doubt. Hope gleams bright, if we believe, this truth shall live through pain.
Stars shine, diminish doubt hearts must open willingly. This truth shall live through pain, our love shall bloom again.
Hearts must open willingly, words must tumble free. Our love shall bloom again, night sky’s scrim beams on us.
Late to post to Peter’s prompt for Thursday’s Meet the Bar night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. He asks us to write a pantoum. Pantoum: comprised of 4 line stanzas the follow this pattern: 1,2,3,4; 2,5,4,6; 5,7,6,8; 7,9,8,1 In other words: * the second stanza repeats the second and fourth lines of the first stanza, in its first and third line. * The third stanza repeats the second and fourth line of the second stanza, in its first and third line. * This pattern continues until the final stanza which repeats the second line of the stanza preceding it, as its first line; and the first line of the entire poem as its final line. Quite tricky to write in the pantoum form and still have sense to the poem, without the form “sticking out” to the reader’s sensibility!
Top of the hill. Treeless. Wildflowers blanket the meadow canopied by cloudless sky bluebird blue. She stands, shear linen skirt billowing arms outstretched, face tipped toward afternoon sun.
Long ago declared their place, they still meet here every year. This day. This anniversary of his death. She feels again his touch, so real within the mountain air. Yellow buttercups glad to see her, wave spritely in spring’s breeze.
Delicate petals succumb to wind, part from stem and float toward her. Adhere to tear streaked cheeks just as his kisses did that final day. Sandals tossed aside, dew moistened grass licks her toes and she smiles.
He is with her here. Their love was real, still is, and shall be forevermore.
Bjorn from Sweden is hosting OLN at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Tonight the pub is live – poets will gather via the miracle of technology, visit with one another and read their poetry aloud. It’s marvelous to connect names with faces and voices. Everyone reads in English and we usually have folks attend from Sweden, India, the UK, the US, Australia, and other places around the globe. Come join us! Image from Pixabay.com
Standing in front of the sea, she smiles with moon-kissed lips. I immerse myself, deeper and deeper still. Explore her nautilus curves. Ebb and flow within her wake, then lie still as darkness gives way to light and dawn awakens me.
I lie stilled on deserted beach. Low tide surrounds me, as if the ocean bared its soul. Oh rapturous sleep, I question thee. Was she real, this goddess of the night? Or was she but a siren escaped from far-off craggy coast? Tears flow from my eyes staring up at blushing sky.
Spent am I, splayed out on moist and rippled sand. And then my fingers feel . . . what? Something smooth and cool to touch. A nautilus. I stare at it in wonder. Then slowly, lowered to my lips, my mouth upon its curved edge I whisper hoarsely, I shall return tonight, my love. You are my destiny.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where it’s Tuesday poetics and we are asked to explore erotica in poetry. I like to think of this as romantic rather than erotic. Simply my choice of words. Photo taken last year in Provincetown during a full moon.
Like a peregrine
caught in a tailspin,
to find calm within.
To escape the din,
seeks his lover’s inn.
Ah sweet nest of skin,
Form of poem is a Lai: nine-line stanza with syllabic and rhyme requirements as follows:
line 1: 5 syllables, rhyme word a
line 2: 5 syllables, rhymes with a
line 3: 2 syllables, rhyme word b
line 4: 5 syllables, rhymes with a
line 5: 5 syllables, rhymes with a
line 6: 2 syllables, rhymes with b
line 7: 5 syllabkes, rhymes with a
line 8: 5 syllables, rhymes with a
line 9: 2 syllablesm rhymes with b
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets.
Photo from pixabay.com
Soaking in a creek,
she lingered in the cool moonlight
basking in luminescent shadows.
Clothes on rocks beside her she imagined star glitter upon her brow, pretended the soft breeze was her lover and succumbed to the night.
Written for Misky’s Twiglet # 89: “soaking in a creek”
A twiglet is a word or short phrase meant to motivate.
I have no need for mirrors
or overly affective words.
Aging is reality.
I need not be reminded
of it stealing time
But you, my love,
wrap me as if in gold,
caress my heart.
You hold my hand
and walk with me,
as if we are young love
now as then.
Wrapping up our dVerse 7th anniversary week, Frank asks us to write a septet. It can be a single 7-line stanza or a poem with two or more 7-line stanzas. Image is one of my favorite Gustav Klimt works, The Kiss (from Wikipedia Commons).
It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. De is hosting and asks us to include the word “muddle” in our quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title). From the kitchen.com “Many warm weather cocktails us fresh ingredients such as herbs and fruit, and often muddling is reuired. To muddle means to press the ingredients agains the side of the glass. Muddling helps to release the flavors of the fresh ingredients so they bind with the alcohol.”