Oh why have you deserted me these nights,
your golden wings and glistening silver beak?
We soared through star lit skies to mystic sites
my Namrah, childhood friend, to me unique.
Adulthood now, so taxed by tasks each day
the years have sped, imagination dulled.
My dreams are doors no more, no passage way,
no you. But stress instead, and nightmares mulled.
Oh why have you deserted me these years?
Is there another child who claimed your dreams
whilst I, within the dark, doth shed my tears
for youthful innocence and moonbeam gleams.
As wrinkles steep and footsteps slow my gait,
I see the light in death’s dawn – tis there you wait.
Written for dVerse MTB where Bjorn hosts and asks us to write a sonnet. Sonnets can take a number of forms. I’ve chosen a Shakespearean Sonnet: 14 lines with the following rhyme scheme in iambic pentameter: ABAB, CDCD, EFEF, GG. I find this form extremely difficult and find myself counting out syllables etc on my fingers. So this is my go at it. A Shakespeare I’m not! PS: Over the years I’ve written a number of poems about Namrah. Many folks have childhood imaginary friends. I did not – but I’ve created Namrah in a number of poems, speaking in the first person, as if this beautiful mythcal bird is just that.
What if I became you?
A three-letter being instead of a one.
Not won but lost.
In your shoes with one lost sole.
A lost soul.
What if you became them?
A four-letter being instead of a three.
Not a one. Never won.
You as them. Not allowed in.
On the other side.
Outside, like them.
The other’s side.
Not here. Never here.
What if you were them?
You, an other.
Merril opens the new year at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. She asks us to consider time and space and what if. Her prompt: “What if you – or someone else – or some THING else – took that less or more-traveled path? Would it make a difference? Will it make a difference? Look backward, forward, inside, and out. Then wonder, what if?” Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Stop by and begin your 2019 by imbibing some words today!
There is vulnerability
in unconditional love.
baring our souls.
in tonight’s passion
and tomorrow’s mundane.
as love is.
Anmol (HA) is guest hosting at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. He asks us to explore desire and sexuality in poetry – and to write about desire and identity. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time…come join us!
thou art my bedfellow.
You joust to slay my sleep,
pummel me with dire near-dozing dreams.
not to rest, but to rise instead.
Darkness turns light,
switch slapped by frustrated hand.
thou art the victor
your bleary-eyed spoils.
I’m hosting Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. The prompt word is “spoil” – or any form of the word. Quadrille: a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time – come join us! Image from Pixabay.com
sly winks silence not.
Words hurled into sea of humanity
Build waves tumultuously
till tsunami destroys.
crowds riled to group-think.
Vitriolic spittled slogans,
create the wire.
tomorrow’s ancient script.
Our ever-living shame.
De hosts Monday’s Quadrille at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today’s prompt word is “wink.” A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Dancer by trade,
she entered and exited on cue
shuffled feelings and muffled flaps,
anger building as he controlled every move.
Until she left.
Shuffled off to Buffalo,
her patience finally tapped out.
Inside, she looks out.
confined within her pane.
Stripped by cruel winds,
Charles River, ribbon slight,
below low slung sky,
scene through barren trees.
Relieved, she slowly smiles,
espies her Charles again.
Silent vow worms her mind.
Before spring reblooms in pane
I shall join you, sweet Charles,
an afterworld away.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, on Open Link Night.
Photo from Pixabay.com
Once upon a glimmer,
and dandelion puffs.
Dew drops on lily pads
and snowflake glisten
on frosted pane.
in our evening prayers.
I’m hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. The prompt is to begin a poem with Once upon a ????? Writers may add any word except “time.” So I’ve chosen Once upon a glimmer. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
too close to home.
Photo from Pixabay.com
He spun a sugar-coated tale.
Bright lights and sequins,
Come join me and be a star!
So I went.
Believed that sweet talking ringleader . . .
and his beguiling eyes.
Spot lights fell on sawdust stages
again and again in tawdry towns.
Love is blind – too late I saw.
Following him, I lost my way.
He prances about, cajoles the crowd.
I traipse ’round makeshift bleachers
sans sequins, sans fame.
Get your cotton candy here!
I am the busker
for his spun-sugar tale.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Sarah hosts and wants us to go to the circus! Pub opens at 3:00 PM Boston time. Come join us!