Under the spell of the Pink Moon

 

Pink moon, rising above the Great Lake

Blue our sun-freckled faces with waves

Soft as lavender, we are star lights

Pink moon, rising above the Great Lake

Draw care & patience on our hands

We are red-berried by nectar & bees

Pink moon above the Great Lake

Lavish our words with joyful birdsongs

We are wildflowers, lush & lusty

*Great Lake - refers to our Ontario Lake.   We visit the lakeshore every weekend.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight LIVE, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Please join us starting at 3pm EST.  The dVerse communicty will be on a 2 week summer break.  See you on July 12, 2021 for a special anniversary celebration!!!

summer

 

it is summer and i count back-

wards

the wintry clouds 

a midnight blanket

i fluff & huff

darkness to fold away 

shadows to box up

this rain is spring 

in my measuring cup 

i salt the soil with seeds

lightness to drink from

brightness to smudge with

this sun is mad ball

of fire

wrinking my skin to red

clay, muddy brown & yellowing 

leaves

i marvel the sky

an umbrella of majestic russet shades

this sun wrapped hours, i savor

while drinking cool water

this summer is a jar 

bathed in wilted lemon

                                  flowers

i count back-

wards                                    

                                                        

Inspired by Ernest Hemingway's quote:  It is very hard to write this way, beginning things backward…

–The Torrents of Spring (1926)                                         

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - One True Sentence, hosted by Lisa Fox.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

flights of fancy

imagine this  - your body lifting fancy free

to fields, as if you are seeder of words 

to sky, as if you are gatherer of cottonweeds

to sea, as if you are fisher of night stars

to fields, as if you are seeder of words

knuckled & knotted, you lay them on canvas

wielding ink & pen, you blade them to exotic fruits

to sky, as if you are gatherer of cottonweeds

tying a bouqet of wildflowers & sunflowers

you find your footing, right here, drawing ships

to sea, as if you are fisher of night stars

floating in the primal scream of your longing, you

fly on stilettos!  you bead starlight all the way to the moon!

                                                              by Catrin Welz-Stein

   

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Trimeric form which was invented by Dr. Charles Stone.   Please join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.

Briefly, flowers

 

smudge me with your 

                                  light

truffled pink

whorled alabaster 

i am newborn

as unrhymed 

                                  word

press upon me

courage of mustard seeds

tenacity of  greens

hope of pods & pear 

                                 trees

dappled in fading 

honeysuckle,

to cradle divinity

       blossoming

in

split-seconds

       falling

                  fallen

                                stars

Peony from my garden

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

Risk of burning the moon

here is paint box

where my shadows lurk 

shaped of black candles & stiff

broken wings

i put on the gloves of

anger & sadness within me

this hard seed of hurt

is deeply rooted, rimming

brimming my wildflowers to rot

i risk it all out in the canvas

altar of regrets

dry rust of barren earth

prickled words wombed from streets-

f__k this stupid shit!

the bloom of my skin turn

to knots

to twisted violet

until the violent wind dies within me

pale & half-apologetic

this mirror of myself

a burnt pendant moon

a wintered darkness

i own it, 

& learn to live with it

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, Taking a Risk by guest Host, Tricia Sankey.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your comments.

Keeper of keeps

settle me, leafy & limber as grape vines

upon pillows of leaves, a symmetry of green

i breath in your cool breath, light, green

on greening maple and oak trees, sky

clocks the long hours of daylight

rosy long hours of sunlight

in your greenness, i taste salt

of earth, & summer sun salting 

my skin to brown, to flowering blooms, to pierce

my heart as a pear tree of flowering blooms, so fierce

for what am i without you

empty greenhouse, without you, greening

me with a thread of fire, greening

with threads of fire

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB:  To turn again, about turn again.   This challenge about epiphora, is hosted by Laura Bloomsbury.   Playing with repetition to drive home the theme & message.

Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

The mangoes of our lives

 

on my palm, you are sun

goddess made by the tropical

gods in their dreams

i cut you

across your seed

lengthwise

as your yellowing juice

drips & tinges

my fingertips of heavenly

sweetness

some would even

cut your flesh into little squares

to be spooned into

desserts light & creamy as clouds

but by the streets & shores

of hardy farmers, fishermen & tradesmen

we holler for you

salivating over

your hard green

skin of unripeness

a tartness to rouse our tongues

to firehouse

of bitter-sour flavor

the earth has pickled in your seed

either freshly picked

or mixed with diced tomatoes,

onions, chiles and

shrimp paste sauce,

a side dish

for grilled fish and fried meats

under cool shades

of coconut trees,

your greenness gives us

roots

salt of our skin

browning under the burning sun

Source

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - How to cut a pomegrante, hosted by Kim M. Russell.  Join us for a fruity prompt when the pub doors open by 3pm EST.