We walk silently, side by side
wander from delineated path.
into mountain meadow
enveloped in heady scent.
Wildflower carpet at our feet
damask cloth spread upon the blooms.
She sits demurely
holds one tempting peach aloft,
just beyond my reach.
I stretch to touch her wrist
guide velvet fruit to slightly parted lips.
Succulent flesh drips sweet nectar,
blurs into rivulet on milky neck.
And I sit mesmerized.
Her image blurred through tears.
framed amidst soft meadow hues.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Bjorn hosts and continues with his exploration of artistic movements. We are to paint with words, in the style of Impressionism, capturing images to create a scene. Impressionism is not dark. We are to lighten our poem with colors, but preferably not using color words. Instead our images/objects/scenes mentioned should evoke a sense of color by their very nature. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come share your impressionistic view or just stop by to imbibe some words!
Endings pivot to less beginnings
emptiness beside waking self.
someone’s last dawn
awakens another’s grief.
Photo taken in Provincetown, MA, on Cape Cod.
he of geology
she of high kick dreams.
and little one’s little ones.
Unfinished, aged patina,
we rock on.
When two become one, the base remains two.
When two multiplies to four, the base remains two.
Birthing and unconditional love.
Your child’s everything
until independence blooms.
Time apart increases.
They see more, learn more.
And you step in and out,
never fully immersed again.
And they leave.
You are the beginning two again.
Memories, age spots,
and more love.
Knowing as they become two and multiply,
it is a cycle born to repeat itself.
And the most important arc is the base of two.
That is the constant.
Sharing with Open Link Night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today there is no prompt. We’re free to post one poem of our choosing, Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
spin me round to giddiness.
Sunshine your smile til clouds disappear,
seal trouble-slips in opaque jars.
Take hold the maypole ribbon
and dance with me,
across the day, months and years.
Come whirligig with me.
Let’s make sweetables.
Shape red licorice twists into infinity.
Toss heart-candies onto a scrabble board,
ouija them into Always Mine, Valentine.
Ganache our love and sip bubblicious.
Let’s spoon the night away.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today I’m tending bar and asking everyone to “have a heart.”
He scent her,
over a cup of tea and slice of sole.
His moistened fingertips touched her lips,
lemon balmed her into paroxysms of love.
Twiglet #10: scent of lemon. Misky posts a twiglet every Tuesday: a short phrase, a word, to prompt a thought, a flow or a memory. Artist credit: Girl Holding Lemons by William-Adolph Bouguereau, 1899 -found in wiki art.
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.
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.
My eyes cannot see my face
and yet, in this room
this darkened place,
I see me in your love
your soft whisper breath
your fingertips across my skin.
You are my looking glass
image me into our dreams
light my heart, my soul,
light stars within my eyes
explode my senses,
nova me this night.
And then, as passions fade,
we shall sleep entwined
until the morrow’s dawn.
I’m hosting Poetics at dVerse today – that wonderful virtual pub for poets. I’m asking folks to write a poem that includes a unique verbification – a noun or adjective used as a verb. Think Google — originally a proper noun, the name of a company. People started to say “google that” and through repetition, it became a verb. How about “ganache me” — wouldn’t that be delectable? My post, One Night, verbifies nova – a star that suddenly flares and then fades slowly. Come join us at dVerse to read and enjoy; and maybe, also, to post your own verbification! Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Photo: in public domain.