Sliver of Silver by Lindsey Ein

Moon is a sliver of silver;
stars sparkle, shimmering
steel in space;
silky cirrus clouds
slither across silent sky
searching span for sanctuary.

Solitary soul seeks solace;
a shield from shadows of secrets
searing his serenity.
Scanning skyward, he senses sanctuary in
sacrament of silence, a sliver of silver shining still.

Written by Lindsey Ein and read aloud today at OLN LIVE, at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.
Image from

Path to Serenity

We walk quietly through hushed forest.
Tree tops shimmer-emerald in bright sun.
Shaded lower branches,
more soft-hued green.

Leaves wave in gentle wind.
Sunray flickers through foliage,
forms mosaic patterns upon our faces,
upon our soft smiles.

We slowly walk deeper into calm.
Birch trees, conifers, cypress,
scent of damp pines.
Ancient sentinels of passing time.

Powerful strength towers above
as delicate ferns and wildflowers
thrive in earth beside our feet.
We revel in balance before our eyes.

In the midst of raw beauty, we embrace.
Feel strength course through our beings.
We will be back again and again,
witness to the healing of this place.

Dedicated to Rob and Kathy. Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.

Today, from 3 to 4 PM EST, poets from around the globe will meet LIVE, wth video and audio, to read aloud one poem of their choice, to visit with each other and lend their support to the creative endeavors of all. Come join us HERE and then click on the link provided for Thursday’s live session!

Can’t join us on Thursday?

We’ll meet again LIVE on Saturday, from 10 to 11 AM EST. Join us HERE and then click on the link provided for Saturday’s gathering!

Photo from

With Apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.”

Valentine’s Day,
definitely the time
to answer that query.

One, two, three, four . . .
forty-seven, forty-eight,
fifty-three wedded years.

Seven dogs we called our friends,
two children, nurtured and loved,
five wonderful grands.

Strolling Singapore’s orchid gardens,
admiring Japan’s cherry blossoms,
walking atop the Great Wall.

Meandering beside Lake Michigan’s shores,
through London’s fog, Alaska’s snow,
Bryce’s hoodoos, Yosemite’s trails.

From Iowa to Sweden to Australia too.
Easiest answer to that question?
So many ways over so many years.

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today, on Valentine’s Day, Sanaa is hosting and asks us to write “plainly” about love.

Photos top row, left to right: summer 1974, pregnant with Abbey, our first child; at the Great Wall outside of Beijing; in Japan enjoying the cherry blossoms. Bottom row: in an underground cave in Bermuda about 8 years ago; and finally, us here in San Diego just seven days ago, February 7th, celebrating our 53rd anniversary! Thankful for every day.

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” — from Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 43.

A Different Thing

I defined myself by you; by your dreams and your gigs. I was integral to the group at first, when we sang together. Then you pushed me to back-up; then to working lights, and I was your afterthought. You were addicted to applause, to groupies, to uppers. You finally snorted your way to becoming a has-been. You had it all and threw it away.

This year’s a different thing. I’ll not think of you burning out in small town bars. I’m born again. Not in the religious sense. I’ve regained my self-worth. I’m the one riding the waves now, literally. As a cruise ship entertainer, singing in the spotlight and seeing the world. Some nights I stare at the wake. Energy churned up behind the ship, disappearing into darkness. It reminds me that the you I miss every day, disappeared a long time ago.

Written for Prosery Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Merril asks us to include the line “This year’s a different thing – I’ll not think of you again” from the poem I so liked spring by poet Charlotte Maw (1869 – 1928) in our piece of prose that is exactly 144 words long. Photo by Jakub Pabis on Unsplash

I will host OLN LIVE at dVerse on both Thursday, February 16th, from 3 to 4 PM EST
and on Saturday, February 18th, from 10 to 11 AM EST.

WHAT IS OLN LIVE?  Open Link Night (OLN) is an opportunity to post any one poem of your choosing at dVerse, on Mr. Linky, as folks did for this Prosery prompt.There is no required form, length, or topic.

Open Link Night LIVE (OLN LIVE) involves the same process EXCEPT folks are invited to literally meet poets from around the globe by signing into a LIVE session, complete with video and audio. You can tune in to just watch and listen or you can read aloud one poem of your choosing. Just come to the dVerse home page on either Thursday February 16th or Saturday, February 18th (times mentioned above) and click on the provided link and – voila! – you’ll see us all LIVE!

Questioning . . .

I lie on cool moist earth
waking dreams in outdoor’s chill.
Stars gleam through obsidian scrim,
slivered moon slices ebony sky.
Night’s breeze whispers, lullabies me.
Thoughts float to loved ones
from generations past.
Do they live now,
somewhere out there in the universe?

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today De asks us to write a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words sans title, that includes the word “star” or a form of the word. Image from

Nature Song, by Lindsey Ein

‘Tis early dawn and all around
no bird song floated down the hill
O Nature! All thy seasons please the eye
ring out wild bells to the wild sky.
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright
between dark and daylight
a fragment of a rainbow bright.

Fair daffodils we weep to see
the violet loves a sunny bank
they grow in beauty side by side
into the sunshine.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods
there through the long, long summer hours
the melancholy days are come.

Where, where are all the birds that sang?
The warm sun is failing.
Freshly the cool breath of the coming eve
in the west the weary day
electric essence permeates the air.
Yet one smile more departing distant sun
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank.
There are moments in life that we never forget.

Written by Lindsey Ein and read aloud at OLN LIVE on Thursday, Sept. 19.

Every line of this poem is from a line in a poem by a poet. Here, line by line, are the poems and author:

Line 1: Flowers: Thomas Moses
Line 2: The River Path: Whittier
Line 3: The Seasons: Grahame
Line 4: Ring Out Wild Bells: Tennyson
Line 5: Vertue: George Herbert
Line 6: The Children’s Hour: Longfellow
Line 7: The Rainbow: J. Keble
Line 8: Daffodils: R. Herrick
Line 9: Proposal: Bayard Taylor
Line 10: The Graves of a Household: Mrs. Hemans
Line 11: The Rountain: James Russell Lowell
Line 12: Solitude: Byron
Line 13: June: Bryant
Line 14: The Death of Flowers: Brya
Line 15: A Hundred Years Ago: Anonymous
Line 16: Autumn: Shelley
Line 17: Healing of the Daughter of Jairus: Willis
Line 18: In Reverie: Harriet McEwen Kimball
Line 19: An Acrostic: F.A.
Line 20: November: Bryant
Line 21: From The Merchant of Venice: Shakespeare
Line 22: Remembrance: Percival

All of the above poems are from “Favorite Poems Illustrated”: 1880’s, given to my Aunt Josephine Brown in 1881.
Image from

Streaming Thoughts on “Ice”

Toddler’s rosy ice-cold cheeks.
Zooming, bumping down icy hills
on cafeteria-trays as sleds.
Crack-the-whip flying on ice skates.
Chocolate ganache, icing supreme,
marguerita on the rocks, please.
Icicle turrets on snow castles,
I scream for ice cream.
Smiling me,
at a list like this.

Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Mish asks us to include the word “ice” or a form of the word, in our poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Image by annca from Pixabay

Life’s Merry-Go-Round

They lived a merry-go-round life
senses dulled by blurred vision.
Maniacal calliope music,
mired in manufactured grooves.

She rode the blue horse
its mane gilded in gold.
hands cold on metal pole,
forever spinning ahead.

He rode two steeds behind,
eyes wild with lust
chasing her round and round,
never gaining ground.

Desperately out of synch
his up to her down
so close, but always out of reach.
Gold ring dangling in neon lights
they rode on and on and on.

Rewritten from a poem I penned in 2016. Shared at dVerse OLN LIVE, the virtual pub for poets around the globe, today, Saturday January 21st.

Come join us LIVE from 10 to 11 AM EST, Saturday, January 21st. Read a poem of your choosing aloud, or just come to watch and listen. We’re a very friendly bunch! Click join us…you’ll find the link for Saturday’s LIVE session here!