love

Victorian Love

lillian12 Comments

It was a summer of letters,
you there, me here.
The days of thinking slowly,
rolling words around
until they landed just right.

The days of ink to vellum
and a blotter for splotches,
hand heavy with emotion
or tear drops of missing.
And sometimes our words crossed

like a wind shift, dropping seeds
too early to be devoured or take root.
That summer of letters,
so many years and memories ago,
carefully bundled with dried lavender
tucked away in the back closet shelf.

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Photo Credit: Alex Drahon

Angels Along the Way

lillian54 Comments

Six minute eternity,
seventy-two hours ago.
A cardiac arrest.

Doctors talked incessantly,
you may return or not.
And if yes . . .

Then a voiceless lull
filled that sterile beeping room
and angels’ wings were heard,
as they carried you back to me.

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Dylan Thomas, in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog [first published by Dent on 4 April 1940] provided a whimsical explanation of the word “lull” – A host of angels must be passing by. What a silence there is!  

Angels Along the Way is  a quadrille (44 word poem) using the word “lull” — the prompt given by Bjorn at dVerse, a Poet’s Pub.  Do visit this fabulous site!
Photo credit: Benjamin Earwicker.
Thankful for every day! 

Chateau de Sable/Castle in the Sand

lillian18 Comments

“Ou est le bibliotheque?” She grinned, listened like she understood, then ducked into the first café she saw. “Un croissant. Donnez moi le beurre.” She’d had so many croissants, butter, le boeuf and les oeufs in the past two days, she’d probably gained five pounds. But she loved using her old high school French.

She ate quickly then followed the map to finally meet The Earl of the Castle de Sable! They’d met on the internet. His English was remarkably good. So she’d flown to Paris!

“Um, really? This is a . . . house! And your name is Earl????”

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Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers. Each Wednesday she challenges folks to write a 100 word story based on the photo she provides. This one took me back to my high school French (50+ years ago) and the only words (in addition to the first verse of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer!) that I remember 🙂  Photo Credit: ceayr  

Stellar Transition

lillian3 Comments

Magic beans lie atop the fallow ground
rooted by tears those many years ago.
His death, unexpected
after one hundred glorious days.

She’d waited patiently,
gossamer hair now grey.
And when the monsoon rains did come
they matched her grief in magnitude.

Rivers engorged
became fast running seas.
Earth drenched in new hope,
the magic began to grow.

Tendrils became vines
became trees became redwoods,
and blushed at her ascent.
Last steps on lightning’s jagged stairs.

His fingertips reached down for hers,
thunderous clouds turned calm.
And a new blaze was born that night,
third star to the north of Sirius.

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Photo Credit:  Michele de Notaristefani

Knitting for Love

lillian42 Comments

Like our life, a meld of tangles and the beautiful.
Skeins of wool.
Layer upon layer, unwound and wound again, shaped anew
redefined for you.
My arms, for warmth ‘neath heavens above,
reflect our love,
as we stand, dreams shared, taking hold of
us in this sparkling path of moonlight.
We blend together, you and I, like bright
skeins of wool, redefined for you, reflect our love.

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An Ovillejo written for dVerse. A Spanish form of verse, ovillejo is a 10 line poem: rhyme scheme aa, bb, ccd, dd and the final 10th line must be lines 2, 4 &  6 verbatim.  Lines 2, 4 and 6 are short, remaining lines long. Whew!  Like doing a sudoku in poetry!!!  Photo Credit: Ula Kapala

The Kiss

lillian35 Comments

It was all they wanted for their anniversary. They’d traveled every state and hiked so many trails together. They just wanted to go back to the beginning. The old amusement park.

We brought them to the litter strewn vacant lot. We’d heard the story so many times. The Tunnel of Love where the boat rocked in dark water, pulled forward by chains. Their first kiss.

They saw the rusted turnstile; ride long gone. And as is if we weren’t there, embraced. Their kiss, strong, passionate and deep. We blushed. Our father and mother, a man and woman at their core.

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Word Count: 100   Photo Credit: Amy Reese. Written for Friday Fictioneers, so deftly organized by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

 

 

Still Life

lillian31 Comments

The weather shifted suddenly. For weeks, I walked along the tree-lined path with Sakura. She and I wrapped warmly in our love. Mother ignored the almanac’s provisions, coaxing cherry trees to bloom again. Shades of pink daring to be seen among branches stripped bare in their dormant season. They did not understand, the calendar progresses relentlessly.

And so I walk alone today, Sakura gone. Cold seeps into my bones and the sentinels of this path. New fallen snow blankets branches and lands upon my face. But it is not a comforter to me, nor to these delicate blossoms, still life in this winter scene.

She shall shroud your love
like new fallen snow upon the bark
and the buds shall be stilled.

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Word Count: 131 including title.  Posted for Haibun Monday in Dverse Poets Pub.  Haibun:  a Japanese poetic form that includes prose followed by a haiku. Haibun frequently includes fugetsu (natural scenery) and kaketoba (use of words with double meaning). Sakura is the Japanese word for cherry blossoms and also used a woman’s name. Comforter can be a blanket or someone who comforts. Still life refers to a painting (as this photo almost is) and to dying. A Haibun should also include an eternal truth or a theme that can be understood by many. Photo Credit: copyright Kanzensakura all rights reserved – Used by permission. With apologies to Toni:  I just went back and read your prompt and it indicates this is a quince blossom. I looked and immediate saw cherry blossoms! 

 

 

Sunday’s Invitation

lillian6 Comments

Come meander with me,
a moon walk among scattered dreams
to explore the tantalizing.

Choose the light and join hands.
This shadow of mine shall disappear
as we climb out from the depths.

Secrets one and two shall be no more,
and we shall discover all we need
in that open space created by shared souls.

Our desires shall blend, one upon the other
like rose petals cling to their bursting bud
in the midst of a slow delightful rain song.

And we shall be two as one,
ready for Monday’s promise
this feeling, this exhilaration,
this passion called Love.

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Motivated by Quickly’s Winter Doldrums: Create a list of titles – then be creative with them.  Sunday’s Invitation includes titles from some of my very first poems (started writing poetry in February 2015) and are some of my very early posts (started site in March 2015). Meander, Moonwalk, Scattered Dreams, Tantalizing, Choose the Light, Shadow of Mine, From the Depths, Secrets One and Two, All We Need, Rain Song, Monday’s Promise.