Ring me a path round the sun,
rainbow filaments in cloud tulle veil
daffodil slippers, bluebelle gloves
and dew drop rouge.
Kaleidoscope living on a color wheel.
Storm-grey ombrés to brightest white
pale pink to fuscia bold,
my patina glows.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where it’s Quadrille Monday (poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title). De is hosting and prompts us with the word “storm.” Photos of yesterday’s amazing sky in Andover, MA. Artist’s palette is outside a studio in St George, Bermuda.
Hazy my day.
Soften sun behind billowing clouds,
flirting lazily in muted blue skies.
Hush talking heads, muffle traffic,
muzzle nearby barking dogs.
Doze me ‘neath birch tree leaves,
rustled by honeysuckle breeze.
Calm my spirit,
“Hazy” is my May word prompt from my granddaughter, Stella.
and hummingbird wings.
Deluge of delights.
Photo taken in Provincetown some years ago.
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
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
We gaze, mesmerized.
misshaped craggy towers
wind and brine carved.
Seas rise and fall
pulsate with teeming life.
We embrace, knowing.
Stainless steel lies within,
raises stitchmarked skin.
Tethered by wires
your heart rises and falls,
life beneath the seam.
Photo from February, at Tobacco Bay in St George, Bermuda.
The room had a sour smell,
filled with canes, walkers
tv guides, checkerboard games,
and the people that accompany them
in a place like this.
He sat up tall, expectantly,
waiting for that age-old song
from the high-pitched warblers
hunched over the tinny piano
pulled out for occasions like this.
Balloons hovered overhead.
Candles dripped life-time moments
onto fondant flowers.
He patiently held a paper plate,
too thin for the thick slab he desired.
And so I asked the centenarian
for the secret of his longevity.
Well sonny, I always say,
close your eyes to dream.
Just make sure you open them wide
to watch where you step.
Posted for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where Walt asks us to write a celebratory poem or one that uses the word “celebrate.” This is actually one of my first poems, a character study, reworked for this prompt.
Hand in hand, we explored the ports of call: Cartagena, Puntarenas, Puerto Quetzal, Puerta Vallarta, Cabo San Lucas. The cruise of a life-time through the Panama Canal in its 100th anniversary year.
We extended our trip by two days in the final port, San Diego. Our last dinner began at dusk and ended in the dark. Sitting in a pedicab with tiny white lights round its surrey, we wended our way down the esplanade, beside city trolley tracks. Music from the driver’s battered boom box played romantic songs. And then my husband’s voice surprised me: An extra twenty bucks if you play The Time of My Life! And so the surrey stopped and we danced in the night. One year after almost losing the love of my life, I was dipping, swaying, laughing and twirling in his arms. Two lovers having the time of their lives. Thankful for every day.
ebony still night
interrupted by joyful shimmer
two shooting stars
Written for Haibun Monday at dVerse where we’re asked to write about a romantic moment. Prose should not be fiction (it’s not), followed by a traditional haiku (nature based with a cutting pivot in the second line). Video was taken by our driver – you can see the train/trolley go by near the end. Photo below is earlier that day, The Kiss — statue of the famous photo taken at the close of World War II. That’s us at the bottom of the statue 🙂 Statue is near the USS Midway — which you can tour in San Diego.
Effervescent, she shook up life
until it bubbled delicious.
Wore glitter star barrettes
high-kicking through life
like a sequined Rockette.
Bjorn is tending the bar today at dVerse and asks us to write a Twitter poem:
exactly 140 characters. A character is defined as a letter, space, hyphen, or punctuation mark.
Yep, that’s me. About 10 years ago, celebrating with the Boston Pops on the 4th of July on the esplanade. This shot made the jumbotron that night! I always wanted to be a Rockette! 🙂
Dear Dream Maker,
aaI wanted to be a Rockette.
aaStand in a long line,
aahigh kicking my way through life
aain sequins and spotlights.
aaThe two step with you
aahas been just fine.
Written for day 17 in a 21-day class with Holly Wren Spaulding. Prompt: write about what you wanted to be and why. Use short lines.
My job surprised me. I was a person I thought I was not. Travelling the world alone, meeting with corporate VIPs like I knew their business. Their eyes looked for someone else when they entered the room. And they found just me. India, Morocco, Germany, China, Thailand. And just me.
In Brazil, on a rare no-appointment day, I took a flying leap. Quite literally.
Strapped to a stranger, we took five running steps to the mountain’s edge and I was hang gliding. He started to talk. Point out landmarks below. Shhhh. Please, no. Silent exhilaration as we drifted through rays of sun. Slow banks turned me to a spiritual place: empowered, thankful, proud. I am doing this. Feet touched earth after ten minutes of solitude strapped to a man I knew not. And during that time, a lifetime of time, I became a new me.
Breeze flows midst rays of sun
clouds drift through golden shimmer
let go, let God, and soar.
Haibun written for dVerse Poets’ Pub, Open Link Night. Poets may post a poem of their choice. Photos: yep – that’s me.