“Look,” the woman said,
“from a window, day dazzles.
Explore!
See that brilliant blue ocean
vast, ferocious, and old?
Sail it with joy,
let in magic—
perfumed mornings’ colored fire,
embrace its poetry.
Listen. It’s time.
Wake.”
(Her ghost lingers.)
A message from the Oracle.
The beauty of the daffodil
after winter’s snow,
the sound of robin’s morning trill
at dawn’s rosy glow–
effable delights, I hold tight
to fight vague evils of the night,
secrets for my heart–
from this truth comes art.
This is day 1 of NaPoWriMo. The Prompt: “Today, we challenge you to write a poem that is based on a secret shame, or a secret pleasure.”
Murmur me, the stars and moon,
glissando whispers, humming croons–
purring from a kitten’s throat,
murmurs, old men’s anecdotes–
murmuration, birds in flight,
sighted in the morning light,
murmur me, an old oak tree
murmur me, what lovers sing–
murmuring life in everything.
This is for Quadrille Monday at dVerse. De Jackson has asked us to use the word murmur.
Yesterday morning while I was drinking coffee and writing my Monday post, I suddenly heard so many birds. They just kept coming and swooping around. I thought murmuration. These photos are not very good, since I took them quickly with my phone through the kitchen door, but it was magical.
I haven’t consulted the Oracle in awhile, but she seems to be in a good mood today, and she gave me this shadorma, even though Eliot’s November challenge is over.
A star sails
haunting the night, she
laughs, wake a
universe,
her voice fire and joy, it
lingers, a breath, . . .if
A thought, and my brain takes off on a journey. Turns me around, mind-wandering through worlds we cannot see, time, and space, a trace of Chaos theory, the hard problem, history and mythology. I seek connections, new directions. I wonder about ghosts, hosts, and cat dreams. Streams of thought, or so it seems. In the end, I hope (familiar trope), looking for the good, the light. I wake up happy to see the sleep-bound moon and the growing dawn. Nothing is foregone. My heart sings and wings with the birds.
birdsong as night falls
cardinals’ red echoes leaves
summer sighs farewell
This Haibun is for Haibun Monday at dVerse. We’re asked to write “a haibun about why you write the style of poetry you write. Not why you write poetry, but the why of your style.” This is to be followed by a classic Haiku, which must include a season word. We were also asked (an option) to post a photo.
Ilya Repin, “What Freedom!” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Pretend I’m the Queen of the Sea–
in my long reign
we will dance upon the waves,
careless of the sparkling spindrift
delighting
water-spriting
unrestrained,
without reins
we’ll ride our horses of ocean blue
under the singing stars,
and only a gentle rain will fall,
soft drumming to the humming moon
Franz Marc, “Large Blue Horses,” [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
This poem is for dVerse. Lillian has asked us to use the words rain, rein, and/or reign, and to write something upbeat.
I’ve used this painting by Ilya Repin before, but I love it. The Blue Horses and spindrift are for Jane. 🙂
More magic moons that bring the tide
where mermaids swim and sirens sing,
but we sail on, for hope hasn’t died
in dreams, the sea is magnified
the tumbling waves with foam do fling
more magic moons that bring the tide
Death may come on horse bestride
to demonstrate that he is king
but we sail on, for hope hasn’t died
our love comes in waves, comes sparkling-eyed
as love-crazed, reverie, both unspring
more magic moons that bring the tide
so come, my darling, we must have tried
to play in our dreams, as we daily wring
more magic moons that bring the tide
but we sail on, for hope hasn’t died
Ilya Repin, “ What Freedom,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
A villanelle for Day 30, the last day of NaPoWriMo. I think this may be the first villanelle I’ve written.
Kerfe Roig (check out her latest here ) mentioned “more magic moons” in a comment to me, which gave me a prompt for this poem. Then the image above popped into my head. Jane Dougherty used it once for a microfiction prompt. So thank you both!
Dimply in the dapply light,
she danced in joy, my little sprite
the sea breeze tossed her springly hair
while seabirds squawckled in the air
she skipped upon the golden sand
till her father took her by the hand,
together they walked to wavy sea
(tumbling, white-capped, spumey sea)
where in a Jersey summer rite,
she jumped right in, such pure delight
Day 18, NaPoWriMo. The prompt was to incorporate neologisms, made-up words.
This poem is based on my memory of the first time our older daughter saw the ocean.
fog recedes, tide-like,
misty skies change, gray turns blue
sun and spirits rise
a smile forms on weathered face
raised to catch the radiance
This tanka is for Colleen Chesebro’s Weekly Tanka Poetry Challenge. The prompt words this week were fog and change.
Wake, listen
let life voice
a naked need,
we must laugh & dance
like a morning breeze
of coffee & angel caramel breath
perfuming air with joy
Grounds for Scupture
This is for Doug, Elusive Trope’s Magnetic Poetry Saturday Challenge
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 