Part I Winter
There is a purity to fresh-fallen snow,
the quiet of night, of nature’s repose,
birds, silent now, sleeping in dense junipers.
Walk alone, outside, in midnight dazzle
of virgin white. Snow crunches beneath your feet,
settles on trees, rocks, housetops.
You will discover magic.
Let’s see if I can jump into the challenge of using all the words for dVerse Quadrille and making sense. Today there are only 2: rock and crunch.
Photo: pexels. Labeled for non-commercial reuse.
Caption: Victoria Slotto
(in the manner of Chinese wilderness poets)
snow dusts silent earth
branches bow beneath its touch
cedar wax wings descend to berry filled trees
moon drops behind Sierra
morning sun stretches lazily
paints sky in hues of rose
frozen grass crunches beneath feet
distant train signals crossing
hope hides in shadows
Welcome to dVerse Poets Quadrille this week–my favorite prompt! Today De is asking us to write our poem of 44 words, no more, no less (excluding title) within which we will include the word “crunch.” I’ve just begun reading “Mountain Home: The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China,” translated by David Hinton. I suspect that, little as I grasp of it, there will be some influence in my writing. Do you feel a sense of emptiness?
Please join us at the pub with your 44-word crunchy poem. The doors swing open Monday at 3 PM EST.
Caption: adwriter, via Flickr
Labeled for non-commercial reuse
The yard is silent now.
Ebbing sounds of crickets
faded into nothingness.
An occasional blue jay scolds
but this morning, hides.
Howling winds ceased.
Leaves lie hushed in mounds,
huddle in the cold. Walk
among them, kick, crunch
just to hear nature’s breath again.
Today, our dVerse Quadrille Hostess, De, asks us to use the word KICK, in our 44 word poem. Having raked leaves all morning, I couldn’t escape this theme. I will be back to read after finishing in the back yard. Please join in. The link is open all week.
Of Autumn Nights
I dream of emptiness, of cinnamon,
and darkest nights infused with spice.
I wait in stillness for the rain to come.
Long before dawn, such sensuous aroma,
an open door, desiring you should come
taste bliss, taste love and cinnamon.
Such spice. Such sweetly aromatic. Come.
I have a brief break in a couple of busy months–remodeling, house guests and next Wednesday, my husband’s second back surgery–so I thought I would drop in for dVerse Quadrille this week and, next Monday, I will host Haibun for Kanzen Sakura who is dealing with an enforced break from blogging.
Some of you may recognize parts of this poem which I have adapted for a change of season and for the quadrille, in which we write a poem of exactly 44 words, which must include the word spice or a variation thereof. Please join us.
Photo: Public Domain
Eagle Nebula Dust Pillar
Today I am horse,
surging power trampling fear—
carry me onward.
Just a lowly frog
croaking humble songs of praise,
ever mindful love.
beyond death’s darkness.
At last I’m eagle,
soaring to mountainous realms
Now I dream tomorrow.
Linking to my favorite prompt–dVerse Quadrille. Please join us with a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title, using the word DREAM in the body of the poem. I chose an old poem from 2011 and revised it to meet the requirements of the form.
We are in the midst of a kitchen remodel so I may be slow to visit but will get around eventually.
Photo: David Slotto
Summer begins to fade.
Trees share foliage with earth
Vegetable garden spills its seeds.
When he appears I hold my breath,
taken aback at beauty new to me.
Ruddy-headed, spotted Northern Flicker.
Summer begins to fade
but shares her gifts with us
Welcome back to the pub, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed your break. Today, for dVerse Quadrille Monday, Grace is asking us to use the word FLICKER in a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding title. I write of the appearance of this woodpecker that I’ve never seen before in our region–a Northern Flicker. He surprised us last summer. I grabbed our bird book and David, the camera, and we got several photos of him. His visit lasted only a few minutes but he had his fill.
Photo: Flickr–labeled for non-commercial reuse. The oldest pepper tree in California
Stretch out with me,
beneath my peppertree.
Tickle, caress and coax
memories dormant within
to bring forth the scent of
peppertree-peace and youth-
full, joy-filled moments.
Our world craves love—
the love of a child who sees
beyond dross. Sunlight
dapples us with warmth.
A second poem for dVerse Quadrille where we use the word PEPPER in a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding title. I grew up in a home with a peppertree. As a child I used to hide in its wonderful branches.