Naturally imperfect

Do not dress me up with red sheen
Nor coat my crown with golden hue
I don't need stitches nor brown glue

What scars & grooves I have are green
Painted by sun, queen bee, so keen 
On seeding the sweetest fruit genes

Don't mess up my natural dew
When you dress me up with red sheen

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Victoria Slotto - Poetry form is High Octain

It comprises eight lines:
two tercets and a couplet,
eight syllables per line or as iambic tetrameter, your choice,
first line is a refrain, repeated as the last (some variation acceptable).

Rhyme-scheme as follows :

A-b-b
a-c/c-a
b-A

A = refrain line. 
c/c refers to line five having internal rhyme which is different to the a- and b-rhymes. The midline rhyme does not have to fall exactly in the middle of the line

Picture credit:   here

Poetry for the birds

raindrops on leaves
scattering of silver hues
sky is a
flight of sparrows
siege of herons

sunlight on trees
flickering of curry-fire
sand is a
gaggle of geese
muster of storks

waves against shore rocks, 
white froth with solitude
unlaced, blue strings blue
i am good 
in company of birds

Picture credit:  here

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by De Jackson, to make use of this interesting list.

A dance in the sky

your umber words
undo
my laced-up ribbons

kindles fire
effervescent as wine
i snow melt

furrows to crown
& between fingertips 
i grow fresh skin

throw wild air-kisses
to red-
crested cardinals

there's no time
swooning over you

because
you've already flown,
dancing with starlings

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - 44 word post, with word MELT.

Thanks for the visit ~

Tu-lips

Izziyana Suhaimi

Scribble the sky blue
I'll warble the air with colors
Thread wayward wishes 
with new spring, skirted with glee   
I'll dance in rain, tulips-armed  



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub- OpenLinkNight - Join us when we open at 3pm EST ~

Our nice weather is holding up towards spring, smiles ~  Thanks for the visit ~

To the hands that labor

Your hands are stones
washing and rinsing clothes
flecking away grime and stains

Now your hands are cups
as you knead flour to fresh bread, 
pour water to thicken broth or steep tea

Then, your hands are sticks
digging deep in the earth
gardening seeds & rooting away weeds  

Though your skin has hardened
like thick maple sugar in old jar 
they are ivory feathers on cheeks
and tousled heads at night

The labor of everyday chores
crinkles a map of delicate veins
Here's your past, etched deep
as your mother
There's your future, held back by
list of family obligations

Sister, as you bend your head in yet another task:
sewing that wayward button to a shirt
My palms, waxed with poetry, murmur:

This rose is for you
for first day of spring & all the days
you bring spring

Picture credit:   Valerie Hammond

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics - Can you give me a Hand by guest blogger, Mish ~

Thanks for the visit and comments ~

Haibun: Black pearls

The city lights move in rhythmic march, like ants following the sugar trail up and down the streets.  There's always a new event coming up -  a show, entertainment, restaurant, promotion and exhibition, to keep the city lively and sparkling as red wine. Now that winter snow has melted, the garden beds are fresh as rain, while grey pigeons hover like expectant mothers.   

At one tall building, a woman dangles at the edge of her window condominium.  She contemplates killing herself by hurling her body over the steel rails.   The cold gust of wind doesn't bother her; she is numbed emotionally.   Though she is considered a bright star in her profession, her personal life is crumpling beyond her control.    Her mind falters as it had been happening lately.   She hesitates, mesmerized by the clouds, floating like leaves on pond.   A scream is heard from below, as footsteps clamber up, coming nearer and nearer.   

hiding its scars 
on clear summer night-
moon is perfect black pearl 

Solar Eclipse, Indonesia on March 9, 2016

Photo Credit:  CNN

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday with guest blogger Thotpurge ~  
The woman in the news was saved and was placed under suicide watch.   
Thanks for the visit ~

Women, be fierce!

My hands are a keeper of words that stays
green as spring.  Even when autumn sits
curled beyond my reach, content to play
with spinning wheel.   I gather all my wits
to seed:   fire, mustard & apples. What fits
doesn't always happen as I tangle with dark comedy.
I am a weaver who stitches and flits
sad corners, cutting away the tragedy.
Underneath the labor of tiny leaves, I eye
waning hours to inhale solitude.  Though I smart   
from the toil and burdens, I don't cry.
We women are embroidered with an open heart.

Sun holds our faces as chalices.   Don't moan
our past nor fate.   We are not cast in stone.

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Bout Rimes Revisited, hosted by Gayle Bodirose ~ We are to use the following words in the same end-rhyme pattern:  stays, sits, play, wits, fits, comedy, flits, tragedy, eye, smart, cry, heart, moan, stone. 

A belated tribute to International Women's Day (last March 8) ~

Thanks for the visit ~

Walking the blues away

fragrance of icy air

dulling the cheeks

into frozen smile, i

walk fast, passing

stiff branches of tree

with heavy coat, i

trudge along streets

salted in periwinkle blue

sky is pale oyster, i

chase the sun 

with grin, leaving green 

footprints of spr(i)ng

Green Pedestrian Crossing in Chine Creates Leaves from Footprints

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - 44 Word post with GRIN.  Picture credit:   here

Thanks for the visit ~

Sunflower dreams during winter

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

Yellow petals stitched
    bewitched
By sun, a golden shawl
    I fall
for your charms
Lying in your arms
Tangled in honey kisses, no thorns
    to prick my knees
I am giddy as bee    
Bewitched, I fall (again), into your arms



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit  ~

Poetry form:  Ovillejo

Postcard from Old Quebec

My steps
are a mere whisper
on these narrow streets
cobbled with ruined stones
Sounds of the past
reverberate
above the silent cannons & flags 
of Citadelle of Quebec
in time with
changing of the guards
in bright red coats

Here is the city
site of battles
& different civilization
over 100 years ago
preserved like an old postcard
Standing on Dufferin Terrace
I marvel at the
lush gardens
European architecture of towers,
charm of old doors & window arches,
quaint lodgings & cozy restaurants

The gem of all 
is to view
the majestic 
Chateau Frontenac
overlooking Lawrence river is
to behold a gigantic palace in sky
I am a child
awed
listening to history
unraveling & retracing-
so I may
know the bosom of my
new motherland

Chateau Frontenac, viewed from across Lawrence River

Quebec City

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Adventures in Travelling - I have been to this city twice, and I highly recommend it.   Thanks for the visit ~