Secrets by flowers

you rise

lavender lace, 

laden of butterfly breath

i drink you

               like rain

                           drops

                         

~0~0~

your petals

fold secrets:  oil scents, lush seeds

i inhale you      

                  tea-stirred

                                   morning

~0~0~

your thorns prick
spears of red in my secret places,

i succumb                    
                 to the dying 
                                   sun          

                                                     

                                 

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - OpenLinkMonday
and Artistic Interpretation with Margaret- Flowers

picture credit:   here

Pretty in pink

sun spray paints my skin

not azure nor golden tan

but hot pink among the poppy reds

carnations, lavender, roses & baby pink

staining tiles, walls, sheets, every happy part of me

because it is springtime & everything looks

soft as an unfurling leaf, overflowing

with  blossom-seeds

i stretch pretty in 

pink, embracing

 beautiful 

season

Posted for Flash Fiction Friday - 55 pinky words to the G-Man - Thanks for all your visits ~
I wish you all the lovely colors of the season ~  I hope you are pink with excitement of your new journey, smiles ~

Picture credit:    National Geographic - This is my 2nd Holi poem - Celebrating Festival of Colours ~  Happy Friday ~

Because I can't wait

Picture credit:   Margaret Bednar

To mark the date new
To see the common becoming uncommon
In the flight of wings,
In the cusp of new moon

There will come a time when winter 
stiffens my bones 
grows my hair all white
and tattoos my face in thin paper lines

but until then I shall
move the mountains with my pen
pave my own road with sweat
& thirst & thirst for the sky

For upon my skin, sun is warm & inviting
From where I stand
grass is darker green
blooms are dazzling yellow

because inside me
ever blossoming, a second wind in my lungs
a woman aging with fire-spirit
taking the first step

And that
is alright with me.


“Wrinkles and bones, white hair and diamonds: I can't wait.” 
― Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's: And Three Stories

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Play it Again - The Story
and shared with Poets United - Wishing you all Happy Weekend ~

On a personal note, I have applied and accepted a job assignment in the heart of Toronto City, come April 7.   It will mean a new journey for me though I am still working for the same company.   I am stroked by the turn of events and I hope to master the ropes very quickly.

Colors of spring

late afternoon sun glints mellow yolk
on lime green grass

              fawn lilies, creamy white
              fiesta poppies, burnt copper gold

winter ice recedes, grim ash & bloodless
and now a million flowering bulbs

             starry five petaled primroses
             yellow buttercups, daisies

peek & open,  a concert rifes the air
songs burst in carnival joy rides, drunk with wine

             daffodils, deep orange
             cherry lips pansies

bumblebees are wild with taste of nectar 
& trees become heavy with fruits -

             violets & plump geraniums
             cherry blossoms & blue cornflowers

peaches, strawberries, berries- this season
unfurls hungry for dewdrops & reach of clouds

             yellow trillium & marigolds
             lilacs of palest lavender & mauve 

& i rise to the perfume of flowers
my body's a fountain, a sprawling sky

             lush of colors
             as spring surges in me
          

Artist:   Sunita Khedekar

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub- Poetics - Color me spring ~
Thanks for the visit ~

Dew

Photography by Sharon Johnstone

in morning's bosom, dew drops lie
for snow storm has passed in a blink

melting ice flakes like bubbles ink 

                                                                                

receiving light, first pure breath's sigh

a new season comes, the clouds bawl
soaking garden in raindrops shawl

how dew flares, gazing up the sky

what's hard & grizzled are soft whey

as world turns to silver bouquet

                                     

hands open to cusp, angled nigh 

on grass blade, a triumphant tear     
to welcome the new day with flare  

                                         
crystals descend, untied, wide eyes

how easy to let go of blues

sway to inner sun, one & true 

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Theme is Disney's song- Let It Go 
And Sunday's Challenge:   Constanza form

Shared with Poets United

Dividing time

Artist:   Vandy Massey 

Time divided your life
to before
and after your father left the family

You tried to save the hands
of ticking clock but it was warped cold
like a deep bitter root &

when you pulled it up,
the worms have eaten it away & you
you could not staunch the wounds-

You shoulder on,
a proud sapling for your mother
& 5 sisters
Standing on your ground, this home

is where you'll root & stake your name
Pulsing of tropical sun & rain
you soak the country's heritage 
until your tongue knew only one language -

Now, all I recall of you before:
your smiling brown eyes
then after:   big gentle hands
wrinkled & bluish grey
Your fair face, lined like a fallen tree

Death came in one heart blow
For you, time proved to be merciful 
For us, it was a flash of lightning

coming & coming again-


Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Featuring the work by Vandy Massey
Shared with Poets United

Process Notes:  This post is about my grandfather who died when I was very young. What I remember though was his funeral, which was celebrated like a fiesta.   When his American father divorced his mother (Filipina with Spanish descent), he was left to provide for his mother & 5 sisters.  I heard that he was given a chance to come to the US to be with his American father (who spoke 8 languages) but he chose to stay in the Philippines with his mother & sisters.   During WW2, he & his family were hunted down by the Japanese soldiers.   I may write about this next time     ~  Thanks for the visit ~ 

Into the Crystal Cave

Cave of the Crystals or Giant Crystal Cave (Spanish: Cueva de los Cristales) 

is a cave connected to the Naica Mine 300 metres (980 ft) below the surface in Naica, Chihuahua, Mexico.

we enter this sacred cave
and feel the flutter of crystals 

threadlike diamond, lucent
blue mountains lift them like shiny ice pearls

but heat radiates & sucks sweet air
from our lungs

silver & lead blurs our eyes
the way sea drowns our walls to foam

the way stars overwhelm us
with their spinning light-

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Transforming Friday by Hannah ~  Thanks for the visit & 55 Words for the G-man -  Happy to be writing again ~ 

An ocean of devotion

Photographer:   David Orias

Here, I wait for your arrival
Where the sky swarms of gulls
And the ocean glints golden dawn
Weaving endless dance of dragons

The shore is my constant, my anchor
As I await for your arrival
As summer greens & yellows the field 
As autumn reaps its bounty of leaves

The pebbles & shells hear the roar
Of the vessel's mighty bows and oars
Here, I await for your arrival
as black ship clears into the harbor- 

An arrow pierces my chest
The flags fly and white mast unfurls -  
The sun, a beautiful maiden at rest, rises  
as I wait for you, here -    

“The heart can think of no devotion
Greater than being shore to the ocean-
Holding the curve of one position,
Counting an endless repetition.” 
― Robert Frost

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - A tribute to Robert Frost
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~  Poetry form:   Quatern poem

Those invisible hands

during the job interview,
he was asked to clean his mother's hands
and come back the next day-

so the young man came home
& requested to wash his mother's hands-

for the first time, he sees
her gnarled thick veins,

bruises & small knots wrinkling
palms from washing & rinsing clothes

day in & day out, water & detergent
scalding skin dry & paper thin

she winces with pain as his hands
smooth & fine, brush hers tenderly-

it dawned on him 
the sacrifices she, a widow had done to give him

good education, time to study & never to 

worry about chores & future, while she washes

and cleans clothes, bending her shoulders to task-
an invisible & tireless worker-

slowly the young man stands up
& washes the remaining clothes-

he makes a promise:
he will now carry her torch

& her hands-
                   her hands will be his guide- 

This is based on an inspirational story I read this morning: (You can skip this as its long, smiles)

One young man went to apply for a managerial position in a big company. He passed the initial interview, and now would meet the director for the final interview.

The director discovered from his CV that the youth's academic achievements were excellent. He asked, "Did you obtain any scholarships in school?" the youth answered "no".

" Was it your father who paid for your school fees?"

"My father passed away when I was one year old, it was my mother who paid for my school fees.” he replied.

" Where did your mother work?"

"My mother worked as clothes cleaner.”

The director requested the youth to show his hands. The youth showed a pair of hands that were smooth and perfect.

" Have you ever helped your mother wash the clothes before?"

"Never, my mother always wanted me to study and read more books. Besides, my mother can wash clothes faster than me.

The director said, "I have a request. When you go home today, go and clean your mother's hands, and then see me tomorrow morning.

The youth felt that his chance of landing the job was high. When he went back home, he asked his mother to let him clean her hands. His mother felt strange, happy but with mixed feelings, she showed her hands to her son.

The youth cleaned his mother's hands slowly. His tear fell as he did that. It was the first time he noticed that his mother's hands were so wrinkled, and there were so many bruises in her hands. Some bruises were so painful that his mother winced when he touched it.

This was the first time the youth realized that it was this pair of hands that washed the clothes everyday to enable him to pay the school fees. The bruises in the mother's hands were the price that the mother had to pay for his education, his school activities and his future.

After cleaning his mother hands, the youth quietly washed all the remaining clothes for his mother.

That night, mother and son talked for a very long time.

Next morning, the youth went to the director's office.

The Director noticed the tears in the youth's eyes, when he asked: "Can you tell me what have you done and learned yesterday in your house?"

The youth answered," I cleaned my mother's hand, and also finished cleaning all the remaining clothes'

“I know now what appreciation is. Without my mother, I would not be who I am today. By helping my mother, only now do I realize how difficult and tough it is to get something done on your own. And I have come to appreciate the importance and value of helping one’s family.

The director said, "This is what I am looking for in a manager. I want to recruit a person who can appreciate the help of others, a person who knows the sufferings of others to get things done, and a person who would not put money as his only goal in life.”

“You are hired.”

This young person worked very hard, and received the respect of his subordinates. Every employee worked diligently and worked as a team. The company's performance improved tremendously.

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Mary - Part 2 -
Picture credit:   here