Listen to the glisten,
can you hear it?
stars in scrim of night
luminous path upon the seas
smiling shining eyes
dancing sun in forest leaves
Gaze deeply and calm your soul.
Photo taken some years ago while camping in Mr. Rainier National Park.
Sequel
I doth tromp amidst this misty fjord scene
my youth expired, seeking to inquire.
Searching caves, knowing my child’s desire.
To sail with thee, frolicking where I’ve been.
Since my desertion, what is thy routine?
May I but hear you roar and see your fire?
Meet my child, that is all that I require.
And so I bare my shame, I plead and keen.
I’ve shared with him my childhood tale of joys
of pirate ships and rides upon your tail.
Prithee show yourself and accept my plea.
I dost promise thee, he shall bring you toys,
climb upon your back to happily set sail.
I shall bow to thee, grateful for his glee.
Kim is hosting dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. She asks us to rewrite a popular song in the style of a sonnet (perhaps Shakespearian), without telling readers what the song is. Sonnet: 14 lines: two quatrains followed by two tercets — all in iambic pentameter with the following rhyme scheme: abba, abba, cde, cde. This was a real challenge for me! Warning: even the mighty Will Shakespeare diverted from the strict form occasionally. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us! (Photo taken a few years ago on our Alaskan trip)
LYRICS: Puff the Magic Dragon
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
Little Jackie paper loved that rascal puff
And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff oh
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched on puff’s gigantic tail
Noble kings and princes would bow whene’er they came
Pirate ships would lower their flag when puff roared out his name oh
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar
His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane
Without his life-long friend, puff could not be brave
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave oh
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee
Writer/s: LEONARD LIPTON, PETER YARROW
Publisher: Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Rain on Me
Drizzle stardust
sunflower seed
toddler kisses
crimson leaves
and hummingbird wings.
Deluge of delights.
Photo taken in Provincetown some years ago.
The Old Lamp Lighter
Lamplighter of yesteryear
resides light years away.
Nightly strolls relocated,
he illuminates the stars.
Written for dVerse where I’m hosting today, asking folks to write a poem that contains the title of a Billboard Magazine #1 hit recording from the year they were born, or their early years of growing up. The Old Lamp Lighter, recorded by Sammy Kaye and His Orchestra, 1947. Below is a drawing my 10 year old grandson did for this post.
Glorious!
Sunshine on my Sunday.
Prayers of thanksgiving
for this and every day.
Those Words
occasional words
occasionally said
like unexpected visitors
they just appear
at your doorstep
in your mind
or in your throat
until that day
that October 14th
that 10:40 AM
since then
same words
every morning
every night
many inbetweens
you beside me
walking, in our bed
sitting near, standing there
same words always said
in my heart and in my head
thankful for every day
What Is Shall Be Was
Shadows tread in life’s past.
Embers gleam red passion,
pale to ashen grey.
Ship wakes sink into oblivion.
Sand dollars, once much more.
Daguerrotypes.
Faces unknown
posed in serious countenance,
fade frozen in corroded frames.
Vestigial pock marks upon the earth.
Life marches forward
directionally unaware,
into the past.
Written for Open Link Night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. April is national poetry month so drop by to imbibe some words with us – or better yet, step up to the bar, no prompt on OLN. It’s an opportunity to share as you wish! Bar opens at 3:00 PM Boston time. Photo in public domain.
Missing
Measured as the crow flies,
she sat across the room.
In synapses and cognition,
she was light years away.
Conundrum
My hands caress
use opposable thumbs.
Yours do that,
and also shoot guns.
I bask in the sun
nurture my young.
You do that,
and stockpile guns.
I sit in here
looking out at you.
You stand out there
looking in at me.
I see your face
your hands
your feet,
so like me.
So why am I the one
locked in here,
you out there
staring at me.
Photos taken at the San Diego Zoo. I can stand for hours looking at the gorillas – they mesmerize me. I’m hosting dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets, asking folks to anthropomorphize within today’s poem. Give an animal or object human characteristics such that it behaves like a human. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time — come on over and anthropomorphize with us!
The Shadow Knows
There are places and times for pure childlike delight.
We’d been through a stressful year. Death hovered too close to our family. Through the miracles of modern medicine, assisted by angels along the way, we survived. And so we ferried in September to our beloved Provincetown at the very tip of Cape Cod. We walked for miles at water’s edge, marveling at the vast ocean. Our mortal footprints disappeared as the tide returned to shore. We witnessed new dawns. Gazed at a glistening moon path on darkest nights. It was a time of contemplation and somber thankful prayers.
Until that early morn. Standing in the cool sand, my shadow elongated before me. Cast like a circus lady on stilts. Like mirrors where clowns stretch tall or wide. Magnified to the absurd. And it birthed a smile. And then a chuckle. And then a laugh. Pure childlike delight far beyond my years. And it felt good.
owls perch and observe
cows chew their cud in solemnity
spring lambs frolic free
It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, and Toni asks us to write about shadows. Any kind of shadows. A Haibun includes one or two paragraphs of prose and it cannot be fiction. The prose is followed by a haiku (3 lines with syllable counts of approximately 5, 7, 5). Haikus are about nature and include a seasonal word. Photo is my shadow in Provincetown.
lillian the home poet 