Tuesday, February 27, 2024

the hands of the artist

the middle finger of my right


   grows a tree

white tap roots skitter


   interweaving with my veins

branches protude 

fingerlings swimming upward-

   against gravity

northbound -

    this is homeward drive

where mollusks are plenty    

my body is listening


capture the raging

   tides swelling within-   

this warm clay

coarsely molds friction & fire

   with flights of fancy

to sculpture -

wings are not required 

   the fruiting is art


Artist Credit:   Anastassia Zamaraeva

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub -  Poetics - 2024 Poets Leaping hosted by Lisa Fox.  Thanks for your comments and visits.


Monday, February 19, 2024

February morning

in a canvas of white

maple trees are empty baskets

while pine trees are lush of cones

along ice-covered pathways-

such a grey dreary sight

yet with slight touch

of sunrise, rolling clouds,  blue sky,

the morning is leavened

by puffs of yellow-butter radiance

Posted for dVerse Poets pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson.  This is a 44 word post with the chosen word, TOUCH.  Join us with a poem when the virtual pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thank you for your comments.

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

The Garden

Welcome to The Garden!

You may walk barefoot here if you wish.

Inhale the fresh air.

Sit on the benches under the shades of trees

Eat the fruits that you find

  Your hands will be holding the sun's warmth

  And the dewness of rainclouds 

Our trees here are grand as 

Cathedrals reaching for the sky

But watch out for poison ivy and stinging neetles

  The giant hogweed can cause burns

Traveller, there is no judgement 

  Of where you came from 

  Of what is the color of your skin 

We would love to hear your stories

  if you are so inclined to chatter 

  Over teapot of orange blossom

If you choose solitude and soil

  Abandonment with vines is the upward course

If you seek knowledge from the trees

  Meditation with the bees is the eastern path

And if you wish to walk further

Nearby a river runs in ziz zag pathway

   Refusing to run straight


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, Its Written in Stone, hosted by Dora.

Thanks for your comments and visits.

Monday, February 5, 2024


a cup of tea

simmers with aroma

you sip its warmth

as blues shuffles the air

evoking happy times-

you write your verses

imagining time is splatter of color

you draw on sands

vermillion sky-

mumuration of starlings-

you, being carried away

on clouds

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

Thursday, February 1, 2024

the business of busyness

some of us see you as woman

in flowered hat

cool as a spring blossom

no one can guess that beneath

your walk with an air of elegance

that you are filled with piths of sadness

an emptiness that you cannot bottle

and put a label

so that your therapist can check

its shape

its hues and dunes

its composition 

her moon eyeglasses

could not decode where it

started nor prescribe the cure

so you carry a big purse of fullness 

and work your hands with busyness

your schedule is so booked

you blank out lunch

you forget to go outside 

and inhale the scent of lilacs & tulips-

real flowers, that is

if only your therapist knows

that the only thing that brings you a smile

are the birdsongs

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

Thursday, January 25, 2024

yesterday's blossoms


Under almond tree, I remembered you

murmuring blues, your face a poem

I traced with walnut ink & red feather

Wrinkled leather were your cheeks, soft rain

Softer still were your fingertips, milk-warm

that stirred a storm, clanging all my shores

Unmooring my usual road, I read fear

Instead of dear, purring adventure

I gathered all my luck, lures, tunes & rides

And ran- from the moon-tides, me & you

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Toddaid, hosted by Merril Smith.  Join us at 3pm EST to find out more about this poetry form.  

Monday, January 22, 2024

when nerves are fire

when i arrived

sky was dove grey

as your face, cloud-pinched 

by pain

i wash your hands 

fragile as crepe paper

soothing gentle words 


i give you relief 

but torment is intense

your nerves are fire

you say, 

being old is not fun

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson.  This is a 44 word post with the given word, PINCH.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

the clarion call from the mountains

i see you, bighorn sheep

on the steep mountain ledge and crevice 

your hooves fitting & climbing

through rocky terrain, stealthy as poet's muse

[what is so grand about you?]

you carry your large horns, smouldering spirals

as stately crown as your rich summer brown coat

your watchful gaze is steady

on the wide field of grass & clover & sage

oak and fir trees dot along the unpaved roads

where predators prowl waiting

for your missteps & fall

[can you remind me what is so special about you?]

you are patient as the slow moving clouds

watching the blue sky expanding, unfenced & unguarded

as your wild heart, beating to the call of northern winds

there is a sacred 

pact between you 

and the mountain gods

[i respect it and wait for the clarion call]

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Creatures of the Blank Space, hosted by Dora.  Years ago, we visited the Banff Mountains in Alberta, Canada, where we saw the Bighorn Sheep by the mountain sides.   They are spectacular creatures with massive horns.

Monday, January 8, 2024

i found (an escapade)

the lagoon

soft sands & shimmering 

i lost track of time

forgetting how quickly this 

turned to high tides, rocky-rolling

i swallowed salt & seaweeds

are my eyes jelly-red?

where's the boat?  

the slumbering sea is now awake


for the moon's opaque eyes

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Melissa Lemay.   This is a 44 word post, with the chosen word, lagoon.   Please join us with your poem when the virutal pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, January 4, 2024

let there always be light


when the moon hides

ribbons the clouds to purple

gathers the bones of trees

& stardust

and shapes our eyes

into a waning crescent 

remember the tides 

that brought us to the shores

[the first light, warmest of light]

igniting our blood to fire

to be born

again [and again] 

"Let there always be light, (Searching for Dark Matter)", title poem by Rebecca Elson.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  Thanks for your visits and comments.