Golden Slumbers–dVerse Poetics

Sevenling (Golden Slumbers)

Shake off dreams this early morn;
leave behind your world of fantasy;
gently emerge to that mythical riff

of reality’s beat-heat—relentless
drumming—life in allegro, pulsing,
relentless force into wakefulness.

Or, go back it bed. It’s Saturday.

Today, at dVerse Poetics, guest host, Lillian, invites us to have a FANTASTIC time, enjoy a bit of music if we wish and sip some poetry.

You may recognize the title to this poem that I’ve borrowed from the Beatles–I’ve included a YouTube video for those of you who are too young! And don’t forget Monday’s Haibun that will be open all week.

The form is a Sevenling. For info on that form, check out De’s post last Thursday.

the saxophone and itzhak perlman–dVerse Poetics II

Artist: Cindy McTee

Artist: Cindy McTee

the saxophone and itzhak perlman



that blues brother’s guy plays an alto sax while
itzhak slides his bow across medusa’s snakes
playing “(black) swan lake.


pas de deux


hansel, wearing tights too tight
(he really shouldn’t)
dances the nutcracker—sweet
gingerbread, tries to lure that
dragon-lady, ice-queen, witch away
from the oven before gretel becomes toast!

2/2/cut time

poe’s raven caws “nevermore, nevermore”
to the half-time beat of the metronome
while that crazy old dude in the third
row back, center seat can’t stop clapping.

game point

then my wife, the old bat, comes in
waving last night’s empty bottle of vodka
“i told you so, bacchus, you ass.”


Photo: Jim Varney

Photo: Jim Varney

My second response to the dVerse Poetics prompt for story-telling. There are a few of the cues in this one: a dragon, a bat, a greek god, a black swan, a nutcracker, a man who can’t stop clapping, a bluesmen playing a saxophone, Hansel and Gretel, the Icequeen, an old liquor bottle, a raven and a metronome.

I hope you will visit us at dVerse Poetics and also check out my other poem, posted earlier.

bare back–dVerse Open Link Night

Photo: (Pinterest)

Photo: (Pinterest)

bare back

in my dream I ride bare back on a white stallion
in frothy surf as it kisses sand, teases seahorses

there is freedom in the scent of salty air and sacred power
in aloneness of sandstone cliffs—protection from intrusion

the solstice sun leaps off the edge of ocean’s rim
leaving behind gold-washed clouds and gilded whitecaps

undulating muscles of the steed, undulating roll of waves,
the crash of breakers on the shore enclose blissful somnolence

too bad it’s but a dream too bad aloneness gives way
to loneliness and darkness overtakes the earth

too bad the horse is but a chimera
that gallops into the void




Linked to dVerse Open Link Night where you can write about anything you like. The Pub opens at 3:00 PM EDT and I will be your hostess, serving up poetry and mojitos to combat the heat.

First Freeze

Photo credit: Check out her beautiful work!

Leaf’s curl sparks fear in my sylph’s heart.
Soon the plant will succumb to a cloak of frost.

Lavender’s sweet balm exudes last tastes of remembrance.
Ice shards spew death, stumble into the sprite’s craggy shelter.

In the distance, Thor practices his drumming
while overhead, clouds skip across lofty sea-skies.

Inside, wrapped in warm hues, a poet
spawns autumnal moods by the light of a dwindling flame.

If you listen with care you will hear leaf’s surrender
as it kisses earth. Sylph sighs.

I’m happy to join in for dVerse Open Link Night. This is a poem written using the advice I offered in my previous post…based on words selected at random from a dictionary. It always amazes me how the subconscious mind chooses words that seem to lend themselves to a theme. Or perhaps it is the theme that influences word choices.

Please stroll on over to dVerse and join the crowd for wonderful friendship and inspiring poetry. And it would be good if you would add one of your own. If your muse is on a leave of absence, as mine has been, take the risk: grab your dictionary and have at it!

Five Sentence Fiction: Faerie Land

This week’s prompt for Five Sentence Fiction  is to write a pithy story inspired by the word “Faerie.” This wasn’t easy for me–not that I’m a skeptic–but I’m not a reader of fantasy.

If you’ve never visited FSF, come on, join the fun and add some flash fiction of your own.

Free Image
















Faerie Land

The tension in Carl’s voice was like a violin wound too tight when he asked his wife’s best friend, Alicia, if she had seen or spoken to Naomi.

Not since Tuesday, was the response; she was blathering on that there’s more  to this world than we can see. She cut the call short, said she had to get back out into the garden where someone was waiting for her beneath the irises. She couldn’t stop sneezing–told me it was faerie dust.

I haven’t seen her since Tuesday morning, Carl replied.