word play

what 

is first born calling

add ever, it becomes an all weather response

with opening hands & long drawn sigh, a pregnant pause

but why

is the subversive sibling

making the sound a crunched fireball

ready to be curved-fisted & batty-hurled at great speed

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson.   Thanks for your visits and comments.

dear joy

 

Visit often

Unannounced or planned

Tap on our doors and windows

With your spring step & top       hat

Remind us of blue sky

When the day is fiddled-grey & fog-spun

Or calm walk     by the lake      shore

when ticking clock is mad         spin-wheel

Gather our pettiness

Along with the fallen yellow      leaves

We will find you,        a glass stone

To treasure along with our bowl of     half-

missing & lost things

Brush us tingling as   warm    towel

On a cold day, lifting      us with

silver wings              & cries of          gladness

Unmeasured, we          glide

above stiff-brown trees,           singing

Posted for dVerse Poets:  Poetics - Choose Joy, hosted by Merril D.Smith.

Thanks for your visits and comments.

October's spells

Autumn, what is my name

Autumn, what is my name

I am scatterseed, fruit of October

I am scatterseed, fruit of October

I am of Autumn's fruit, scatterseed 

October, what is my name 

Moon-scarred, I coax sunflower spells

Moon-scarred, I coax sunflower spells

Cleave me to light

Cleave me to light

Spells cleave me to sunflower

I coax light, moon-scarred

Darkness is a  cocoon wrapping the night

Darkness is a  cocoon wrapping the night

Making me soft as milkwitch

Making me soft as milkwitch

The night is making me soft as milkwitch

Wrapping darkness, a cocoon  

Autumn spells I coax - scatterseed, moon-

scarred sunflower in October

What light cleave me, I am

Of soft fruit of darkness, I am

Making a cocoon, wrapping the night

Milkwitch is my name

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- We are writing Paradelle, a poetry form.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm.     Thanks for your visits and comments.

at the end of road

 

when all flowers have withered

        black-smothered by north wind 

                                                          

when all leaves have fluttered                         

        brown-speckled to cold soil

    

promise me 

you will still sing with gusto

        & dance with light-feet beats

keep your edges 

        but remain gentle as rain 

        & nourish moon-seeds of spring

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Quadrille, hosted by Lillian.  This is a 44 word post with the selected word:   Promise.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thanks for your comments and visits.

Yellowing

 

i am just chilling here

toasting the blue line gaze

cool breeze is licking my skin

warm as melting chocolate

my bumblebee car awaits-

i mellow down under the

dandelion-inspired umbrella

as if summer sun is cracking

spicy tortillas on my head

this blue chair will do

nicely as i people-watch-

sketching convervations in my head-

imagining where they are going to-

my glasses are sweaty

my shirt is sticky as a granola

i lost my lemon-trimmed sandals in sands

but it is fine - no map, no timeline

for the day, just a yellow bird

on my knee for company & cheer

this space is what i have worked 

for:    peace & rest

not burnt-out but clutter-free

in all the ways i deserve-

i am just chilling here

                                                        All Yellow (Morgan Hill), by Teresa Dunn

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub-OpenLinkNight, hosted by Lisa.   Thanks for your visits and comments.

rhythm of autumn

autumn, autumn, sway us away

fading yellow to the ground, moist 

with rain, our leaves & blooms paler

than the waning apple-cidered moon 

autumn, autumn, swirl us away

turning darker red & black purple each

passing hour, we gently accept as  

our summer golden skin turn to ash

autumn, autumn swing us away

knitting our fears of change, we are 

changing, from fullness to emptiness-

we collect new words for sorrow

autumn, autumn, swirl us away

into the rhythm of life & pulse of death

we succumb, grateful for blessings 

from trees, warmth from dying sunlight

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:   Poetics:   Of Mantras, Repetita Juvant, hosted by Dora.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments. 

the woman in the garden

 

she sits inhaling the summer day

her lemon dress dappled in light

the children's laughter are light as clouds

while another woman's voice is playful sing-song

this scene looks like a perfect vacation scene

but it is not 

her hands are knotted in prayer

a mother's prayer

her head filled with the pain & turmoil of her son's life

his pain is her pain

she prays for the stillness of doves

and fullness of lion's courage to do what is

right and just

she sinks into the white and green space

this garden is a healing salve

peering over the vase of aster blooms

she feels a deep peace settling

on her lap

soft as a yellow butterfly

Le Pho (1907-2001), Women and Children in the Garden (c. 1970), oil on canvas

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Le Pho, hosted by Melissa Lemay.  Thank you for the visits and comments.

lighter than air

when darkest of night come

or coldest of the hour seep

your skin to shivering blue

when loudest of silence

or biggest self-doubts stand

as black-eyed monster in path 

remember the candlelight 

inside you

allow forgiveness

allow a helping hand

bestowing, un-

bounding grace 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille:  Let there be Light, hosted by De Jackson.  This is a 44 word post with the chosen word, light.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

September sky

paint me a sky of apple green & red         

as flocks of geese fly off as summer kites 

the air is cooler with sun's fading light  

autumn arrives, muted colors & dreads -

the harvest of pumpkins & plums is spread

on table with berrries & gourds weaved tight

on my canvas of hemp & cotton white

paint me a sky of apple green and red 

i watch the rain hammer the browning beds

as maple leaves start to yellow in sight 

dead flower heads begin to roll, a blight

autumn arrives, muted colors & dreads -

painting a sky of apple green & red

moody as trees, lush as pears with first bite-                                 

autumn arrives, muted colors & dreads 

Crab Apple Tree

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetry Form:  Villonnet. A Villonnet is a hybrid of the Villanelle and the Sonnet. It has the Iambic Pentameter of both, but holds the four-stanza/line structure of the sonnet, while utilizing the two-line rhyme nature of the villanelle. The final stanza replaces the sonnet couplet with a typical villanelle tercet.    Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

walking on air

you said, this is the end

of me

the end of the road

-done-

there i was 

discarded, flinted by rust

but i found

fire from smoke

shape from debris

purpose from destruction

now, i am reaching

for the cathedral spirals

i walk on air

framing each steel lattice into

clouds of my imagination

my hands hammer my spirit

into works of art

-undone-

the road's end is ahead

for me

each ending is yet to be born

Inspired by the work of John Pai

Posteds for dVerse Poets Pub - Tuesdays Poetics: Endings hosted by Kim Russell. I took the approach of #4, end by going back to the beginning.

Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Thanks for your visits and comments.