Simplicity is a roomy closet, an empty drawer,
stars overhead and terra firma souls.
Memories and dreams conjured
from maps, photo albums, paper and pen.
Long walks in whatever weather,
wherever place, your arms round me.
Thankful for everyday.
Tobacco Bay. Ten minute walk from our rental in St George’s, Bermuda.
Bermudean seas
aquamarine ripples glow
sun kiss dappled waves.
Unfinished church
home to homeless souls.
Emptiness
infests porous stone.
Spirits drift through arches,
windowless frames
seek solace in open spaces,
await blessing’s incantation
drifting . . .
caught in man’s indeterminate pause.
Photos of the Unfinished Church on a hill top in St. George’s, Bermuda. Gothic architecture, started in 1874. Funding problems and disagreement in the parish suspended construction in 1897. A 1926 hurricane destroyed the roof and much of the construction. The ruins are a protected site in St George’s, a UNESCO world Heritage Site.
wave after wave,
battered vulnerable shore.
Split assunder
droplets splayed like angry spittle,
fury unleashed.
Photos taken in Bermuda.
…and I shall imbibe her beauty…
shape-shifter clouds, wisps and trails…
lemon sherbet sun with melting rays…
pink sand beaches beguiled by sea glass…
aquamarine waters, clear and bright…
yellow kiskadees sing to dawn
as loquats plump for picking…
oh Bermuda, I do savor thee
Photos taken in Bermuda this past February and March. Here, the loquat are just ripening. Posted for Open Link Night at dVerse, a virtual pub for poets. Bar opens for OLN today at 3 PM — stop on over and read what others have to share!
nights etched in mind
black water glistens
harbor lights beam on sea
shadow figures lean toward wind
far away music starts and stalls
tree frogs serenade the stars
stars peek from black sky
Bermuda’s scrim of night
Photo from our deck in Bermuda, just before the stars came out in force….in February. We were right on the harbor….so many beautiful evenings! Prompt is from my recent June class — write a poem of nostalgia.
Listening for city warblers,
red cardinals perched on cement ledges,
impatient jays clinging to limbs.
Ears cringe at raucus horns,
cherry red vehicles rush
nowhere fast, just out of view.
Grey skies meld into buildings,
perfectly perpendicular
floor upon floor upon stack
upon stack upon stacks.
Right angles everywhere.
My lawn chair, an oxymoron
on this outdoor slab,
seven floors up, walls on three sides.
Eyes close so memory can recall
morning Kiskadee songs at dawn,
Bermuda’s blue upon blue horizon
where shimmering waters touch the sky.
Written for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets’ Pub.
I awake at dawn to sit outside,
watch darkness turn to light,
listen to the fantasia
composed by friends of flight.
Gulls screech, black birds caw,
blend in loud cacophony.
Yellow kiskadees sing their name
kiss-kah-dee atop palmetto tree.
Whistle woo, ee-ooh ee-oohs,
stutter sounds that stop and start.
Nature’s composition,
her ode to sunrise joy.
Sparrows peep and chirp beside me,
ruffle flutter wings then flee
startled by my scratching pen
scoring sounds of brightness in the morn.
Sun warms as notes begin to simmer
overture slowly ends.
Curtain rises on blue skies,
a new Bermuda day.
Thrilled to be guest-hosting dVerse Poetics today! Loving all things fantastical, my poem today uses “fantasia” as it relates to a musical free flow composition. Video from our deck in Bermuda, listening to the dawn. You’ll hear the Kiskadee (yellow bird) quite plainly. And this is one of my many feathered friends who came often to sit with me. Also applying to NaPoWriMo Day 12.
Young girl with broad grin
face turned upward, felt the tug.
Kite string unwinding
colors dancing, zig zagging
dreams tossed to the wind come true.
Photo from Bermuda’s kite flying tradition on Good Friday.
Happy weekend to all — may your dreams fly high!
NaPoWriMo day 9.
Rain pelts, lightning tiara,
emerald green limbs
drip gold loquat jewels,
sapphire seas belt her girth.
Bermuda, dark and stormy,
wears her weather well.
Various storm brewing photos and their aftermath in Bermuda over the past two months. Yes: the water is really that colorful!! No photoshopping done. Poem offered for NaPoWriMo Day 3 (without prompt). The loquat is a delicious fruit that grows on a tree and is ripe when golden. The Dark ‘n Stormy is also the national drink (made with Goslings Black Seal Rum and Ginger Beer).
lillian the home poet 