Sprawled on faded flaccid couch,
she snores guttural gumpfs and wheezes.
A warped pendulum creaks . . . shudders . . . stops . . .
clock face sags in disrepair.
Rodent feet in plaster-dust slippers
scurry inside flaking walls.
Spotlight dims. Floorboards creak.
Vamp sounds of decay.
Enter Death as curtain falls.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. It’s Quadrille Monday (a poem of 44 words – not including the title – no more; no less). Today Victoria is hosting and asks to use the word “sound.” Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time! PS: after a wonderful month + trip that included a TransAtlantic cruise and cruises through the Norwegian Fjords, Iceland and Ireland, it’s great to be home! Enjoying my regular early morning writing and reading time again.
Shadows tread in life’s past.
Embers gleam red passion,
pale to ashen grey.
Ship wakes sink into oblivion.
Sand dollars, once much more.
posed in serious countenance,
fade frozen in corroded frames.
Vestigial pock marks upon the earth.
Life marches forward
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.
Measured as the crow flies,
she sat across the room.
In synapses and cognition,
she was light years away.
for putting in.
Three corroded pennies.
One pale yellow
Tupperware bottle cap.
One hair comb.
stuck in teeth.
One black and white
dime store photostrip.
Seven holy cards.
Written for day 3 of my poetry mentor’s March 21 Day Challenge online poetry class. We are to write a poem of short lines with many stanzas.
carved by wind and sea,
lessons in patience
to the passage of time.
Photos from a recent walk to Tobacco Bay near St George’s, Bermuda. No photoshopping. It truly is this beautiful.
We’ve travelled together
through all these years
hand in hand, even apart,
exploring each twist and turn.
So much of our story behind us now,
turned down corners on favorite pages.
Still, we walk on, more slowly perhaps,
wizened bodies and fuller hearts.
Listen my love
as we choose our next path,
to these words I quietly say.
Thank you time, thank you you,
for this and every day.
Today Mish hosts dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. She interviews Ally R Saunders, a talented artist who spent most of her life in Nanaimo, includes some of her paintings and leads us to her website. I chose her painting Many Paths as the muse for today’s post. (My 47th anniversary is February 7 and Kim at dVerse just celebrated her anniversary) dVerse opens with this prompt at 3 PM Boston time.
And you shall ornament this yuletide season,
spread tinseled happiness ’round the world.
Brooch pinned to frayed prayer shawl,
treasured ornament from days long past.
Fruit bowl on wormwood kitchen table,
waxed ornaments that never spoil.
with your smile.
Ms. Quickly asks us to look around, see what grabs our eye. Name it and take that word, create couplets with it. Each couplet should have two lines, about the same length, and “look” at the chosen word from from different angles. Photos: What caught my eye — Two unique ornaments: Lillian – from my kindergarten teacher 64 years ago; and a very fragile bell, given to my mother when she was married. Ornament — an interesting word!
script of unlined sheaves
must write/right itself
more ad lib seen/scenes
life in present
learn from past-tense
slips through fingers
like threads of gossamer silk
disappears like dew drops
as sun steeps blades of grass
as sheaves of journal pages
covered in faded ink,
tear drop stains
softened by the years
as she sits, mind wandering,
wizened body ensconced
in pale grey prayer shawl
I’m hosting the bar at dVerse today, a virtual pub for poets, and asking folks to write a poem with the word “time” in it; or a poem about a particular time etched in their memory. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Stop by and imbibe some poetic words or take up the prompt yourself. We’d love to have you! Photo credit: Kristen Hultzapple.
Baking Time: 65 to 70 years.
Time may vary, depending on your power source
One ripe chick or rooster
Zest of lemon pepper (sometimes called life)
1 cup of sunny disposition, firmly packed
1 Peter Pan attitude [the flying kind; not the collar]
Dash of bitters, tempered by condensed joy
Step lively – do not beat.
To achieve needed volume,
may use lower speed or additional appliance.
Texture may be wrinkled – this is normal.
Choose icing to your liking.
Tutti fruiti is, by far, the most popular.
Add cinnamon red hots for extra kick.
Tinsel may be used for effect during the Christmas season.
Best served with a glass of cold chardonnay,
although a virgin bloody mary may also make merry.
For today’s Poetics prompt at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, Mish asks us to write a recipe poem! She includes a list of suggestions such as a recipe for peace, merriment, etc and “rejuvenation” was among the suggestions. Well! That’s my word! See my About 🙂 Never say “retirement.” I’m in rejuvenatement! 🙂 So here you go, Mish! I accepted the challenge. Photo is of my Christmas tree when I was a little girl — drenched in tinsel! Hence the line in the poem.