Thursday, October 31, 2024

October's spells


Autumn, what is my name

Autumn, what is my name

I am scatterseed, fruit of October

I am scatterseed, fruit of October

I am of Autumn's fruit, scatterseed 

October, what is my name 


Moon-scarred, I coax sunflower spells

Moon-scarred, I coax sunflower spells

Cleave me to light

Cleave me to light

Spells cleave me to sunflower

I coax light, moon-scarred


Darkness is a  cocoon wrapping the night

Darkness is a  cocoon wrapping the night

Making me soft as milkwitch

Making me soft as milkwitch

The night is making me soft as milkwitch

Wrapping darkness, a cocoon  


Autumn spells I coax - scatterseed, moon-

scarred sunflower in October

What light cleave me, I am

Of soft fruit of darkness, I am

Making a cocoon, wrapping the night

Milkwitch is my name




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- We are writing Paradelle, a poetry form.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm.     Thanks for your visits and comments.




Monday, October 28, 2024

at the end of road

 

when all flowers have withered

        black-smothered by north wind 

                                                          

when all leaves have fluttered                         

        brown-speckled to cold soil

    

promise me 

you will still sing with gusto

        & dance with light-feet beats


keep your edges 

        but remain gentle as rain 

        & nourish moon-seeds of spring





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

Thanks for your comments and visits.

Thursday, October 24, 2024

Yellowing

 

i am just chilling here

toasting the blue line gaze

cool breeze is licking my skin

warm as melting chocolate


my bumblebee car awaits-

i mellow down under the

dandelion-inspired umbrella

as if summer sun is cracking

spicy tortillas on my head


this blue chair will do

nicely as i people-watch-

sketching convervations in my head-

imagining where they are going to-


my glasses are sweaty

my shirt is sticky as a granola

i lost my lemon-trimmed sandals in sands

but it is fine - no map, no timeline

for the day, just a yellow bird

on my knee for company & cheer


this space is what i have worked 

for:    peace & rest

not burnt-out but clutter-free

in all the ways i deserve-

i am just chilling here



                                                        All Yellow (Morgan Hill), by Teresa Dunn

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub-OpenLinkNight, hosted by Lisa.   Thanks for your visits and comments.

Tuesday, October 22, 2024

rhythm of autumn


autumn, autumn, sway us away

fading yellow to the ground, moist 

with rain, our leaves & blooms paler

than the waning apple-cidered moon 


autumn, autumn, swirl us away

turning darker red & black purple each

passing hour, we gently accept as  

our summer golden skin turn to ash


autumn, autumn swing us away

knitting our fears of change, we are 

changing, from fullness to emptiness-

we collect new words for sorrow


autumn, autumn, swirl us away

into the rhythm of life & pulse of death

we succumb, grateful for blessings 

from trees, warmth from dying sunlight



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:   Poetics:   Of Mantras, Repetita Juvant, hosted by Dora.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments. 


Tuesday, October 15, 2024

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.

Monday, October 14, 2024

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.