Earth Sighs–dVerse Open Link Night

 

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Earth Sighs
A Quadrille

In the gentle whisper of a breeze
I heard, “Be-
wilder.”

My loamy breast broke forth
in bloom,
cacophonies of colors rose,
swayed in birdsong.

Open-mouthed blue-
bells brushed silent blushing
roses. (Shush.)

Weeds abound, dance joyfully
abandoning white fluffy seeds
to the wind.

A poet-friend and I meet monthly to share forms and poetry. I introduced her to the Quadrille and she chose the word “Bewilder.” This is my effort, inspired by my garden that was largely neglected due to my wrist injuries and thrived without me. Linked to dVerse Open Link Night.

Revenge–dVerse Quadrille #84

Image: Wikipedia commons

Revenge
A Modified Limerick

There once was a kid who was heckled.
The cause? His fair skin was so freckled.
But the kid was a champ,
From an overhead ramp,
He made sure that those brats, too, were speckled.

(The paint gun, you see,
Took them out, all three.)

Today, at dVerse Quadrille, Mish offers us the word FRECKLES, which made me think of a boy in Grammar School who was, not a bully, really, but a bit of an imp. Here’s to you Michael, wherever you are. Join in with a poem of exactly 44 words, using the word FRECKLED.

The Castle Within–dVerse OLN

Earthen Lamp–Labeled for non-commercial reuse.

The Castle Within
A Sestina
Revised 7/25/19

The Soul
Journey to a place that’s sacred,
travel above, below, within.
I walk a path of emptiness
not knowing who it is I seek.
Clouds catch colors that fill the sky
casting reflections on pure water.

Satan
Naked, submerged in fetid water,
utter words, evoke the sacred,
brandish ideas across the sky,
soak in lies that stir within
not knowing what it is you seek
embracing only emptiness.

not understanding emptiness,
your thirst ne’er quenched by stagnant water
you do not know the source you seek
cathedrals, temples, though deemed sacred
cannot answer those doubts within
though spires stretch, they reach not sky.

Drowned in mystery—above, the sky.
Below—a trough of emptiness
that murkiness you find within.
Troubled tempest of primal water
envelops all that you hold sacred,
eludes the meaning that you seek.

What is it, soul, that you seek?
To know who lies beyond the sky?
To touch the silk of all that’s sacred?
To fill the void of emptiness?
Blissful, to float in limpid water?
To satisfy yearnings within?

The Soul
Satan, begone, for here within
the castle of my soul I seek
not to probe the depth of water,
nor soar to crystal heights of sky.
You tempt, betray my emptiness,
eschew the gifts that I hold sacred.

Love Speaks
Your emptiness has birthed the sacred,
immersed in water—filled within
because you seek, you touch the sky.

(Based on the writings of John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila.)

I rewrote this 2011 poem for dVerse Open Link Night, paying more attention to the form–a Sestina with an attempt at iambic tetrameter.

Circus Song–dVerse Pantoum

Photo: David Slotto

Circus Song

If life’s a circus, love, then we’re the clowns,
tossed in this hurly-burly neon light.
Rollercoaster madness keeps us bound,
never free of new-moon darkest night.

Rip me from hurly-burly neon light.
Dance me into the sweetest sounds,
free now of new-moon darkest night.
Steal me to meadows, daisy-crowned.

Dance me beauty of life’s sweetest sounds;
leave behind this darkness and its fright.
Green meadows, gift me, daisy-crowned;
dream me a future that is bright.

Let’s leave behind the darkness and its fright,
this rollercoaster madness holds us bound.
Let’s dream another future, shining bright.
This life’s a circus, dear, and we’re the clowns.

Written and posted for Gina’s prompt for dVerse Form Challenge: Pantoum.

Poetry Lives

Photo: David Slotto

Poetry Lives

She sips poetry,
gulps color, texture,
darkness, light.

She covers cold-
ness, emanates warmth
strokes coarse, jagged bark.

She shields innocence,
shelters the poor,
embraces the wonton.

She revels in birdsong,
delights in tender moments,
blesses beauty’s gifts.

She sips life.
She sips death.

Written for dVerse Quadrille, including the wonderful word “Sip.” This is the first poem I’ve written this year. It’s good to be here with you after a long drought.

Of Fire–dVerse Poetics

Prometheus: Wikipedia Commons

Of Fire

i.

flame-fingers crest the summit

plunge into mountain crevices

cleanse, destroy

ii.

unruly flames

searing dancing restless

passion unleashed—

young love

iii.

a steady glow

warm, comforting

unhampered by winds of uncertainty—

old love

iv.

relentless burn within

waiting for words to emerge

from ashes

v.

his flaming forge

bore weapons of war

Prometheus unleashed

life and death

vi.

it takes but a spark

to ignite dry kindling

it takes but a word

to set the poet ablaze

vii.

below surfaces unseen

roiling seething anger

rouses Madame Pele—

eruption

viii.

dying flames flicker

vestiges of ember crumble

we sit before the hearth—

my love and I

silence suffices

 

To be Continued…

I’m happy to be hosting today at dVerse Poetics where I’m asking for poetry on the theme of fire. Please stop by, share a poem and sip some poems.

 

 

 

I Am–dVerse OLN, a Quadrille

I penned this too late for De’s Quadrille prompt last week, so here it is for OLN using the word WINK. Sorry I’ve been absent so long. My husband was away for seven weeks to oversee work in Palm Desert and left his huge garden responsibilities to me! Not to mention our spoiled dogs.

Image: CC0 Public Domain

I Am
a Quadrille

I am a periwinkle sky in May,
obsidian roiling sea when winter
winks at weakening boundaries.
And when summer evening
breezes kiss the dusk, there you will
find me waiting ‘neath the
sheltering green of maples.
Watch carefully and you will see.

Linked to dVerse Poet’s Open Link Night. Join in with a poem of your choice: any form, any topic.

dVerse Haibun Monday–‘Tis the Season?

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‘Tis the Season?

Quickmas is almost here.
It’s in the stores and catalogues.
Why time, why have you fled
and left me trailing far behind?

Slow down and savor now.
Don’t hurry so, my kindly friends,
lest life should hurry by
and quickly hurtle to its end.

For De’s prompt this Quadrille Monday at dVerse, using the word QUICK.

Koorogi Calls–dVerse Haibun Monday

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Koorogi Calls—dVerse Haibun Monday

Last night I sat out on the deck in utter darkness—alone except for the dogs. Our yard, and those surrounding me, resounded with the sounds of crickets. They came late this year, as did the tomatoes that are only beginning to ripen. David is away, up in the mountains for a few days. Picking up his chores, especially caring for his garden, has been a bit overwhelming. When he is gone, I become so aware of how easy it is to take him for granted. How very much he does for us.

I’m at an age now when one starts to think of, to live the late autumn of life. There is an urgency in it, assessing what is really important about this game we play, getting rid of what we no longer need, saying what needs to be said, savoring each moment—and so much more. Oh, I’m not circling the drain, not yet. At the same time, one reflects when cricket sings his urgent song.

the days are shorter
late summer, fading to fall
hurry now, cricket

I’m happy to be guest-hosting for dVerse Haibun Monday where the Kigo is Koorogi–Cricket. Come on by the pub!

Coming of Age–dVerse Quadrille

Coming of Age
a Haibun/Quadrille

Outside my office tree house, the once-huge robin’s nest seems crowded, small. Three growing babies fluff their wings, itching to fly, it seems. But still, they cuddle to mother’s soft sunset-red breast.

ready to be free,
still gaping beaks, huddling close,
teenage robins wait

Linked to dVerse Quadrille Monday. The word to include is itch. The poem, excluding title, calls for exactly 44 words. I am getting nothing done these days watching this wondrous process of nesting, birthing, nurturing and, soon, fledging.

Happy Anniversary, 7 years, to dVerse. It’s been a great ride.