lillian the home poet

Riding the Waves

September 17, 2015October 10, 2015lillian12 Comments

Gin and tonic on the rocks
atop a Cape Cod hill
overlooking white sail dots
on forever ocean scape.

I drift backward on the waves
to days on my old Boot Hill,
surrounded by empty fields
new subdivision coming soon.

Crouched low behind tall weeds
brambles with stick-on burrs
scratched knobby eleven year old knees,
we stalked bad guys never seen.

Rode horses round that dirt mound
inspired by westerns on console tvs.
Buster browns galloped and dusty laces flew,
head strong imaginations with no reins.

Parched by the high noon sun
horses unhitched and left to roam,
we walked home, hand in hand
to lemonade in aluminum glasses.

And we wondered how old
the Lone Ranger really was.

Photo by Elvis Santana.

Cape Cod Muse

September 16, 2015October 6, 2015lillian5 Comments

Sea breeze carries a slight chill
as she pulls the sweatshirt close,
sips hot strong coffee under rising sun.

Later that day, sweatshirt off and visor on
she palms lotion between her hands
rubs coconut scent upon her limbs.

Feet on rail, notebook in hand
ideas float as gulls hover overhead
pen hits paper as birds dive into sparkling sea.

Sun shifts westward, coolness returns
she dons layers again
like words stacked upon the page.

Days in this place
turn into moonbeams
and she retires to be born again.

Cape Cod, Provincetown, little piece of heaven on earth. AND: this turns out to be my first poem published! Provincetown Magazine, October 1 issue, 2015.

Provincetown

September 15, 2015September 16, 2015lillian8 Comments

Someday, visit Provincetown,
nestled in the crook of Cape Cod’s tip,
at earth’s end and life’s beginning.

Savor the Watermark Inn
her quiet beach in early morn
ripples on sand and gulls overhead.

Long necked cormorants preen
then disappear, dive deep
to reappear fifty yards down shore.

Long Point lighthouse gleams white
stands tall across the waters,
stalwart to all who sail these seas.

Summer sunrise etches pink ripples
on softly lapping waves
and cotton candy clouds.

September sun melts orange red yellow
mirrors foliage on the town side
of fall quiet Commercial Street.

Come see this place my friend,
and serenity will visit your soul.

This poem motivated by a prompt in my September Poetry Challenge Class: Read Postscript by Seamus Heaney…..think about a time you traveled through a landscape that stopped your heart…do take interest in all elements of this poem (Postscripts): place names, references to season, landscape details etc…..he uses the second person “you” in his poem.

Wilting

September 14, 2015September 11, 2015lillian8 Comments

my heart knows your eyes
blue iris sway in dry breeze
wilting like your love

A Glimpse in Time

September 13, 2015September 13, 2015lillian5 Comments

I press my hand into the rock
this cave dwelling of yesteryear
and yesteryears before that
hand in hand, exactly
living inside solidified.

Bending still,
my eyes turn upward
seek the crevasse,
its light
and breath of breeze.

Clouds stir
create, reform
amorphous ambivalent shapes.
A spirit courses through my fingertips
perhaps rides the wisps above.

And I understand. I feel. I know.
Those before me, before them
all are dear to her,
threads of life intermingled
tied to the earth’s core.

Me in 2003 — at Walnut Canyon, Arizona. The Sinagua people lived in the cliff dwellings within the mountain sides. This is me, putting my hand into a print in the cave wall — I was so moved. My hand fit exactly. I’ve never forgotten it. The second “picture” – my words, written next to the picture in my scrap book….”It is an amazing feeling of connection to humans of another time.” All these years later, still remember that feeling and it motivated this piece.