Five seasons of fire

I.

This fire is a cold
seed, buried deep 
in field, breathing death  
& scent of water-
lilies

II.

This fire is red
deer, wallowing in dust
running free on forest 
roaring to wind's end-
less chants

III.

This fire is confetti
elusive, beyond my     grasp
bursting around,      above me-
star in the sky

IV.

This fire is crawling
all over walls & floors
I can't stop it
  eXplOdiNgGGGg, .....    .


V.

This fire is burning
-tongue on tongue-
-skin on skin- 
you, erasing darkness



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Mish.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Waiting

We wait eagerly for Friday night to arrive and settle as an old familiar book in our hands.  Weekends are for staying home and playing with our first grandson, on Sunday afternoons.  With our work, time is taskmaster juggling all our commitments.   So it is relaxing to finally kick back and get into a slower pace of chores.   With the Christmas season in the air, we are eager children counting the days of Christmas Eve.   

Last week, we saw a flock of white geese flying away, to what we assumed would be a warmer climate.   The winter season has clouded our sky with gloomy grey and whitened the garden with icy stillness.   Maple trees are bare of leaves and we can't wait for spring to breeze in with all its bird songs and flaming hues.  

brown leaves raked away- 

i spy bright moon's unveiling

above misty windows-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday with the theme of Waiting, with guest blogger, Imelda.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  

Wildfires

I. 

Sudden lightning -  storm - fire
Breaks out, lashing jagged edge of fear
My thoughts froze, my emotions on spire
I ran for safety, finding relief & cheer
Though all my stuff are gone, trivial and dear   

II.

He never complained - not of aches
Not of dreadful thoughts that steals breath
He worked, saving homes, forests, lakes,
Creatures being devoured by death -
Dark was day, night was hell, no breaks -


*A tribute to all the brave fire fighters everywhere.  Happy Thanksgiving to our USA friends.


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Form is Quintain, 5 lines.   I will be introducing the English quintain and Spanish quintain.  

The first poem is an English Quintain:   

The rhyme scheme for English quintains is usually A-B-A-B-B.  There is no set measure or foot (the number and type of syllables or feet).

The second poem is a Spanish quintain or quintilla.  The Quintilla is a 16th century Spanish Quintain form of eight syllable (Iambic Tetrameter) lines. The rhyming scheme can vary in presentation, but only two consecutive lines may have the same rhyme pattern.  I have used A-B-A-B- A.

Winter's first kiss

You arrive - first dance -
Shower of crystals - magical -
Yet, a kiss of death 
On fallen leaves, yellowed frail
Throats of birds are silent - black -


~0~0~


The sky keeps greying
Over your relentless crossing-
Make my words a flint
Hungry for air and roses 
Longing for lips petalled by rain




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Frank Hubeny.   Join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.

Through the lens of grandparents

my fingers trace fluffy clouds
on blankets for furry warmth
the bed sheets are milky fresh
washed with hypoallergenic soap
per instructions of your parents
who are out on a much needed movie date

i put you to sleep on bed
your thighs are sandy rough 
a reaction by your very sensitive skin
(a phase, we are assured, that you will pass)
your body, soft pillow
of all our remembered youthful times 
at 4 months old
you kick your legs vigorously
testing strength against cocoon of blanket
your face easily reds
from scratching the dry skin

it does not matter to us
your innocent eyes & smile are
the light from the stars
the magic of our summer days  



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Touch Me, Poetics, Hosted by Sarah Connor.  Join us when the pub doors is open for writing and reading at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

Postscript

thank you

for showing me your vulnerability
i too, am frail mustard
leaf swept by cold wind, gnarled

by doubts and scarfed by guilt 
many a night
i too, am needled reed
bent by unanswered prayers
and clumsiness of legs

you remind me to
summon the courage left behind
what has faded, tarnished, passed 
is over 

i can finally accept what is
weary, tedious, ordinary looking, everyday
me
with a cup of bubbling chocolate

thank you



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg on Metaphors.  Join us when the pub doors open by 3pm EST for some poetry writing and reading.

Utopias for Two

The alarm is mute, empty of desire
So are my commute card, cellphone, lunch bag 
I gather all my hours & go outside 
To inhale summer's scent & sky  
Sun waits  
As I meander at leisure pace
Filling the jar with shells, cones, petals, pebbles
I am book to be lettered
I am map to be discovered 
Carrying time in my pocket
Light as dove
Into the dusk light, I continue my search 



~0~0~                              ~0~0~                          

My shoes are bruised walking
this long road in this caravan of heat & hunger
The sweat and cries of other people
are nightmares tossed in stale bread 
I dream of grass under my feet

And sitting serenely on a patio of an ordinary day 

Not hanging on for dear life, on dingy boat with holes

Not listening to gunfire and threats of violence

Is it too much to ask
Not to see skeletons, stench of burning city for 1 day?
Is it too much to ask 

For a small garden to plant seeds & roots ? 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Utopia, hosted by Amaya.  Because our perspective of one is different.   The second one is from the point of view of those migrants travelling in the caravan towards Mexico and USA.

threshold

Her words didn't shiver  
                 nor wink at slightest 
                                       provocation    
They are stones  
                 hardened from broken
                                               light
                                     
Until one day 
                her lips tasted blood, salt,     
                                                      madness
Goading her                                                   
                 - let the words fly -
                                               free of guises 
She leaps 

                where fate fluted   
                                            in rubble yellowing with  
                                                                               leaves  
                        



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by De Jackson.  This is a 44 word post with the chosen word, WINK.   Thanks for your visit.

This land

Once upon a land, the sun dawns bright day
over rolling valleys of green, forests
of Douglas fir, spruce, pine, aspen, balsam 
blanket fields and mountains carved by glaciers

Once upon a land, sky is never ending 
over long shadows of fir, larch, pine trees
wild creatures graze and roam, untamed but for 
wind roaring the birth cries, chanting dead songs  

Once upon a land, the full pearled moon  
shimmers over the alpine lake, milk-blue sheen
We will stay here, bedding, forging new paths
We will die here, marking our scents & tales

Bison Blog

Bison herd was reintroduced in Alberta, Canada in Feb. 1, 2018.  Since then Banff's bison herd has been growing, thriving as it explores new range, Parks Canada says.  All 10 expectant mothers successfully gave birth in Banff’s backcountry; bring the total number to 34.  Source.

Posted for dVerse poets - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Kim Russell.