Star Song

one star per dance
beneath the sliver moon
come with me and be my love
one star per dance

one star per dance
your lips and mine shall meet
bodies meld together
one star per dance

one star per dance
look up and know my love
the galaxy forevermore
one star per dance

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It’s Poetic Tuesday at dVerse and  Mish asks us to become songwriters today, remembering to “lighten up our phrases to make them singable” — use repetition, create a refrain.  I’ll leave you to make up the tune! 🙂  Photo from pixabay.com

 

 

Night

Tis the waking in the dark. Hand to chest feels ribcage move. Head cocked, hears slight puff from lips. Tis a daily night time wakening. Assured, rest returns.

nature electrifies the sky
streaks of night light reassure
her creatures rest calmly in the rain

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A haibun written as a Quotidian. Toni is tending bar at dVerse Poet’s Pub and defines Quotidian as an ordinary happening. Of course, the ordinary happenstance differs from person to person — so drop on by dVerse and read the various takes on this prompt! Or join in, and write one yourself.

New Day

Reminded not too long ago that life is transitory, I begin each day in a slow deliberate way. After padding into our galley kitchen in slippers and robe, a morning ritual begins. Paper cone unfolded, fits inside the top half of a glass carafe. Five carefully measured tablespoons of fresh ground beans are placed inside. Two and one-third cups of boiling water held aloft, I pour just enough to saturate the grounds. And then I count. One-thousand-one, one-thousand-two, one-thousand-three. Moist grounds aerate thirty seconds as I lean in to inhale. Water held aloft again, ever so slowly poured, counterclockwise. Dark liquid foams and slowly seeps into the glass carafe. Filter empties, save wet brown clinging to its sides. Paper sieve discarded, I pour steaming hot elixir into a white ceramic mug. Anticipation rising, I pad my way to the study and sit for that first sip. Eyes closed, savoring the taste and scent. And now, journal and pen in hand, I write. Thankful for this new day.

Coffee beans grown in hot sun
roasted to robust, slowly brewed,
nature’s wake-up call.

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It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse! Today Toni asks us to write a Quotidian. Quotidian means daily — refers to something that happens daily or that we use daily.

Outcast

she stood, vulnerable, waiting
waves of jeers cast upon her
cold stares
her life as the different

hands on hips, defiantly exposed
cold
aasplashes
aaaaaof so-called humanity
hardballs hurled in hatred

ignorance deflected
she dared to say
quietly, firmly,
i am
me

IMG_4340Photo Credit: video displayed at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts; Monomorphic, 2013 by Nick Night and Geoffrey Lillemon.

Elegy

Father to five, beloved son,
you left far too suddenly.
Unable to escape or run,
knees buckled at Death’s glee.

And we were left behind in shock,
screams and rampant grief.
Angry words turned empty talk,
echoed wails with no relief.

Standing graveside, stooped in loss,
tears drenched with memories
fell upon your coffin etched with cross,
placed ‘neath quaking Aspen trees.

Rest now, my brother dear
and know that we are well.
Your children’s children keep you near,
and their children shall as well.

For all their hopes in future years
their smiles, their deeds in numbers swell,
all of these my brother dear
your legacy do tell.

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Written for dVerse — asking us to do an elegy today.
Photo is my brother, nine years older than me, died far too young at 51. Gone more than twenty years, I still miss him.

Merry Me Not

Carnival merry-go-rounds go
round and round and up and down.
My knot-so-merry-tummy goes
round and round and up
and down and urp [sic] it goes,
paint me calliope green.

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Written for dVerse Tuesday Poetics where CC is tending bar. The topic of conversation is “even monkeys fall from trees.”  CC asks us to write about mistakes we’ve made – can be humorous or serious. Well, I learned the hard way — I never ride on merry-go-rounds! Photo credit: Richard Styles

Memorial Day 2016

Stars and stripes ripple in the breeze,
spirits from thousands past
breathing life into those folds of cloth.
The lone sound of Taps cuts through crisp air
bearing witness to their sacrifice,
the price they willingly paid
that we might live in freedom’s path.

american-flag-373362_1920Bjorn is tending the bar today at dVerse Poets’ Pub and asks us to write a quadrille (44 words) using the word “breeze.”  Taps is a slow haunting melody, traditionally performed by a lone bugler, at military funerals and ceremonies.  Today, May 30, 2016 is Memorial Day in the USA – a day on which we honor those patriots who died serving our country; and give thanks to all veterans who have served or are serving today.