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.
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.
waves crash in full tide
rush starts at epicenter
full moon excitement
night’s passion touched rekindled
we lie in sweet exhaustion
Toni hosts the bar at dVerse today (bar opens at 3 PM) and asks us to write a Tanka, a Japanese form of poetry comprised of five lines with the following syllabic count: 5-7-5-7-7. This form is older than the haiku, first appearing in the 8th century! There is no punctuation, no capitalization, and no title. Third line is a cutting or pivot line. The first two lines examine an image and the final two lines are a personal response. Tankas were considered a “female” form, written more by females than males and were often sensuous. Photos from Bermuda.
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! 🙂
Gentle breeze flutters voile curtains
as wizened arms embrace tenderly.
Daytime slips into night
as apricot sun colors fading sky.
Sharing at dVerse today — Grace is hosting Open Link Night.
Come on over and see what others are sharing!
Wind chimes make chance music,
moved by shifting air.
Invisible breeze soothes hot passion.
You blew into town,
slicked back hair, muscle shirt.
Swaggered in with a cocksure grin,
ordered whiskey shots.
Tom Jones dropped in the jukebox,
pulsed heart throb beats.
Women groveled, blushed and fawned
Me? I dropped the cue,
clicked my heels and sashayed out.
A quadrille (44 words) written for dVerse Poet’s Pub. Grace is tending bar and asks us to think about the word twister. Also applying for day 18 in NaPoWriMo. Photos are two free images fused together.
Sun slips into sea
tinging waters pink
as first love’s blush.
Their love, sowed and tilled
through leaving tears,
rekindled in this place
where sky melts blue
into waves of aquamarine.
Bodies meld familiar
then spark as old wick
stammers then flames,
Quadrille (44 word poem) using the word “melt” as prompted by Grace, tending the bar at dVerse, a poet’s virtual pub. Photo: sunset from our deck in Bermuda.
Ma cherie, mon amour, au naturelle
like dew drops upon rosebud petals,
champagne bubbles tickling my nose.
Sweet crème fraiche atop fresh picked berries,
whip cream dollups daubed scoop by scoop
on thick chocolat pâtisserie.
Quite simply put, my dear,
you are my ganache.
Quadrille (44 word poem) for Monday’s dVerse, and today, De Jackson our bartender at the pub, asks that we include the word “bubble.” Photo Credit: Enrica Bressan.
Last night with you,
there were no eyes.
Touch consumed bodies
and life exploded
as we loved.