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.

The Tableau

the lake is fog mist

etching the trees in

olive and russet-

wild flowers embrace

dappled morning light

their faces - perfect

a flock of ducks fly

skimming the water-

birdsongs trill the air

soulful strings, sky hymns-

lily pods & weeds

float, serene muses

Washago, Ontario

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - A Tableau for Sam Hamill,  Hosted by Laura Bloomsbury.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your comments and visits.

cherry's laughter

she would start 

laughing hysterics 

not demurely as the lady with a spanish fan

hiding her mirth

but belly shaking as the dancer with

cymbals, focusing her energy

on thumping the floor

with feet and outstretched hands 

holding a beer bottle or cigarette in the air

as if her lungs cannot hold back the tides

of comic absurdity

of tall tales of hilarity

the sound was contagious as a virus

& we would fall "dying" on the floor

her laugher now echoes in my head

like a bookmarked page

in our family's album

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics: Just for Laughs, Hosted by Mish.   Join us at 3pm EST when the virtual doors of our poetry community opens.   Thanks for your visits and comments.

summer's end

from seed, you grew tall

orange cupcake flower

i wanted you to bloom forever

but summer's end is here

[pause]

spin me out of summer blues

as flowers turn deep sun-blood

slow decay by wind chill-  

dying/dyeing

ink, garden these verses  

[within me]

Zinnia, Orange Cupcake

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Quadrille #207 Poem Spin Cycle, hosted by De Jackson.  The chosen word is SPIN to be used in this 44 word count poem.  Thanks for your comments and visits.

dream catchers

 

i.

how come i cannot find

a playbook for young girls

so they can be 

stormcatchers 

& cartographers of their lives

instead of walking with bounded

feet and wounded hands

ii.

child

draw your dream in a paper

and tuck them in your pocket

-fisher of stars

-wind catcher

-queen of seven seas

-king of lost forests

your pimp will not want them

your jail keeper will thow away the key

they belong to you

in heat of hunger and cold of despair

in the lonely hours of darkness

unfold their inconceivable wings & glorious eyes

unflinching and unvanquished

fixed on you

no, you will not forget them

they belong to you

they cannot be bought

they cannot be sold

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Stormy Weather, with guest host, Andrew Wilson.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your comments.

i dream of dreams (i cannot remember)

my dreams float

in the glass jar,

brimed in peach-

apple cider 

i open the shelf

to admire its color- now amber-

gold & honey

in summer

but in autumn, the 

liquid is deep cobalt-green

the sky takes on a sheen of melancholy

i cannot shake off

i think of another place and time

where the clouds are blue-grey

and the half-moon is glorious star-

i open the jar & inhale the half-

part of me, that swims between sun-

set and dusk

never quite framing the face half-

turning, walking between door-

ways

of meanings 

and blank walls, i am

still air-scribbling, i am 

dreaming

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetics:  Dreaming up a Poem with guest host, Truedessa.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

an unfinished book project

on shelf goes unnoticed

like brimed-sliced cucumbers you placed in pickle

jar

last summer 

& last autumn,

there is still a jar of

home-grown dried calendula flowers in olive 

oil-

you forgot to strain-

you wonder if your poems

are too mush-salty or 

saffron-flowery

Unfinished home-made calendula oil project

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille 205, A Jar Full of Poems, hosted by De Jackson.  Thanks for your comments and visits.