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: Victoria Slotto
Was it like this my entire life
or only since the years stole
in and swept away beauty and desire?
I stand here, watching shadows
of youthful joy and folly,
longing for a simple touch
or even the smile of a stranger
passing by me in Wal-Mart
as I walk slowly, using my cart as a cane.
They are so busy with their lives.
They have things to do and families
to raise and who love them. You are gone
now, leaving me to this darkness,
Gazing at life unfurling before me.
Sitting on my porch, watching
through the another’s window,
nursing memories and fears.
Waiting for death.
For Poetics at dVerse, Lillian would have us look outside or inside a window. The poem I’ve written isn’t about me, but it is something I have encountered so very often working as a nurse with, for the most part, elderly patients. Though I don’t feel old, I know age is sneaking up on me, so I begin to look at things more often from the perspective of the elderly. Please, don’t forget them!
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.
Photo: Wikipedia Commons
how it rained
the day you stormed into my life
earth flipped on her back
stared at daytime stars through leafy branches
summer walks on ocean’s shore
scents of lavender, roses
gentle kisses and ardent promises
until the night you stole away
(how it rained)
Our Quadrille prompt at dVerse is to write a poem using exactly 44 words, excluding title, using the word STORM.
Now for a bit of whimsy as Frank treats us to a limerick prompt at dVerse MTB. I could go on and on.
There once was a dragon named Tony
he fell like a rock for a pony
she got such jolt
she took off like a bolt
now poor Tony thinks romance baloney.
There once was a guy who loved money
But could never impress his true honey
‘Cause he spent it on wine
and she saw not a dime
so she left him alone—what a dummy.
Here’s one I posted for one of Madeleine’s prompt:
A woman who always felt free
Burned her bra when she turned twenty-three
Now at age sixty-eight
She is rueing her fate
As her boobies keep knocking her knees.
“The drop is a small ocean.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
They walk by,
enveloped in concern,
oblivious to oceans of beauty
that surround them—
• undulating water in the stream caressing the rocky earth beneath
• a tiny leaf unfurling her greenness on a distant branch
• mockingbird chortling joy upon his treetop perch
• little mouse, concealed beneath hosta’s broad umbrella
• droplets of dew flashing seductive rainbows from every blade of grass
• and me.
I was the first to open,
now one among the many,
lost in a swath of golden beauty.
I offer my delight
only to go unseen.
I have been, for the most part, unable to be a part of dVerse for a while. Back toward the end of March, Mish invited us to write a poem from the point of view of nature. In a feeble effort to play catch up, this is mine, posted for OLN.
World Bank Photo Collection–labeled for non-commercial reuse.
Labeled for non-commercial reuse.
Last night I dreamt of
feathers and shape-shifting.
Today a wren perches on a naked branch
outside my window.
the tree is in full bloom.
I miss you.
De Jackson is asking for Postcard Poems, that is, poems of 12 lines or less, at dVerse Poetics. Please join us.