"Everyday in every way I’m getting better and better" - Emile Coue
when your eyelids shut
do you recall white-pink sands
or the rage behind mud-graffitied walls
do you see the bluest skim of lake
or spiralling darkness of missed turns of road signs
weep
but open your eyes
the light
inside you
is never spent
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille hosted by Bjorn Rudberg. This is a 44 word post with the chosen word - EYE. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Thanks for your visit and comments.
The wind beneath us
Misses our sweat, stains & messes
Rinsed in clean water
Scrubbed in soap & bleach
We jiggle & jam to be free
Instead you pin our shoulders on
Lines with brown clips
Hooked our faces to marvel
The heat from this cloudless day
Our bows are scattered across
Blues, pinks, blacks & whites
The sky watches the chorus
of birdsongs & buzzing bees
The green in the grass is new
You peer from the window
ready with your basket & starched hands
to fold us over your skin
Cotton- softly sagging, frayed edges
Linen- loosely wrinkled, stretched out
Smelling unabashedly - wind-kneaded, sun-baked -
smell of pine trees, under half-moon
wafts citrus, musky as burnt wood,
we inhale deeply fragrant breeze
recalling season of spring - soon
soft are needles veiled in deep freeze
under half-moon, smell of pine trees
dark sap, scooped earth, trickling slowly
of zest, upon pine cones wholly
fresh. we make ardent wish: peace, berth
under maple trees - brown, closely
tuffed by light, we witness green birth-
trickling slowly- dark sap, scooped earth
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form is Sparrowlet.
Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Thanks for your visits and comments.
It could have been, maybe, it might have been
Deep dive to sea of passion, leading to a chapel
Who knows but the wind, spinning tales with grin
It began with friendly banter, light as pins
Harmless I thought, but for you, a secret, an apple
Oh - what could have been, maybes or ifs of
Had you looked at me, not with a twinkle of a pal
Had I taken a small bite of your blushing-red proposal
Who knows but the wind, spinning tales with grin
I remember your face, filled with sunlight, a bean
Shivering with energy, the look of an open book - I missed..
it. It could have been, maybe, it might have been
Had you held my hand, so boldly in another time
Spinning me in a dance, kissing me up my spine-
Whew! Maybe the wind knew, spinning tales with grin
Rewinding the clock, our paths entwined
Would lead us - here - our hearts bespoked-
It could be another tale to "might have been"
Only the wind knows, spinning tales with grin
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, After St. Valentine Left the Building, hosted by Sarah Connor. Thanks for the visit.
pastel pink and aqua blue tints
slowly nibble away heavy fog of winter greys
look: caterpillar of clouds
on cusp of blossoming
there is joy in mindfulness:
quietude of mornings
crisp air from pines, maple trees
smell of warm buttered toast with fruity smoothie
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - hosted by Mish. Quadrille is a post of 44 words, with the chosen word, nibble. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.
Sleeping Maple Trees
blued, bloodless, brooding
is the sky, my hands savor
mapled squash, wild berries
I currently live in Canada for the last 17 years. While we are burried under winter snow right now, earth gifts are warm & colorful. I look forward to the late winter when the maple syrup would be taken from the maple trees.
Now, we are in the deep of the winter season and everything is iced over the field and garden in Ontario, Canada. The color of the sky even at night is white, reflecting the winter ice below. Spring is still far away (April). Yet we have fruits like squash, carrots and blue & red berries to bring color to our meals. I also make a lot of soup from squash and the other root vegetables. Maple syrup is part of our baking and drinks (instead of using sugar).
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics: One of Seventy Two Seasons - Hosted by Lisa.
gather the weekday's leftovers
(dish with clovers)
here's the pan
we have no plan
to tarry this rib of cured meat
turn up the heat
with seasoned salt
veggies will waltz
with red onions, shrimps & noodles
we'll make doodles
here, there; let's eat
leisurely beat
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - The Minute Poem. Join us for some fun when the pub doors open at 3pm. The poetry form is the Minute Poem which is a 12 line poem (3 of 4 quatrains with 8-4-4-4 rhyming syllables per stanza).
He woke up with storm {seeds} in his mouth
It tasted glitttery loud as birds. Brewing
with <wild possibilities>.
His eyes gleamed with excitement of moon flowers. Whatever known can wait,
But this intangible stillness cannot
even if his legs were shaking with vertigo
Hands trembling, he grabbed his coat. The freezing wind recoiled & fluttered as fallen tulip
petals. The sky was cleaning
out the stars & last quarter moon.
The crucible weighed on his chest,
awaiting
the pouring by his hand.
>>>>> Instead
He went to sea in a thimble of poetry.
Credit: “He went to sea in a thimble of poetry.”- Poet Warning, Jim Harrison
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics: Songs of the Unreason hosted by Linda Lee Lyberg. Thanks for the visit and comments.
your words
of ice brings not shivering
drip but
growing rage at each beat
you can hardly contain
bitterness spiralling your guts
time to take
{time out},
get lost
in nature's path
bottle steps of gratitude
listen to gossiping trees
spread jam of starlings
there is dull blush
in the morning breaths, when
gloomy clouds obscure the sparkly clear blue
in the sky, the birdsongs on sugar maple trees,
hide the posy hues i draw on the page
but i know, listen - hush -
to the slow murmuring breeze, shadows spin,
& fold away when dawn breaks through
snow-capped fields, bony twigs tease
my thoughts to pools of light, a magical stage
i fall myself into, lush
pines of silence, unwrapped in copper tin
box, i taste spring in my tea cup, i chew
brandy-spiced pears, lemon tarts & buttered peas-
i catch sunflowers & tie my verses with sage
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics, Exploring the Realm of French Literature - Hosted by Sanaa Rizvi. Poetry form: Rimas Dissolutas.
