The Cotillion
On our blue planet
a-tilt, wobbling, rotating,
and revolving,
sky-shadows shimmy
in the slanted light
of spring—
the moon-pulled tides swell
and undulate,
and above, the blue or red-shifted
stars glimmer, but
nothing ever stands still—
all dancers
in a cosmic cotillion
the never-ending-dance.
A quadrille for dVerse. Mish has given us the prompt word, “shift.”
Spring Came This Year
early in February—this year
the purple crocuses
yawned and showed us golden teeth,
this year,
the daffodils joined them in unexpected yellow
against the bluest sky, and
ignored Winter’s frost-breath. A last gasp? Uncertain,
we watch the feathered-clouds fly
this year, any year.
A quadrille for dVerse. The prompt word is gasp.
The Wait
The beast was a snarling dragon,
below the surface it twisted and roared,
shifting earth and time
stood still, reversed, accelerated
till the sated serpent slithered away.
And the stars twinkled unconcerned
above the rubble, dropping light-seeds
onto the exposed ground. They would wait.
A quadrille for dVerse. The prompt word was star.
Winter Blues
This landscape sings the blues, tones
absorbed, scattered
in meadows of frost flowers–
but in the staunch fragility of ice, shattered
fragments form prisms
for unexpected rainbows arcs
that sparkle
diamond-sharp,
like the features of the Winter Queen,
beauty without heart, frozen and deadly.
A quadrille for dVerse. The link is still open, if you want to join in the poetry fun. The prompt word is ice.
Once Upon a Time
Shadows crept,
then grew bolder
dreams were born,
then grew older,
blood boiled,
passion ebbed
now spiders dangle
from silvered webs
in dusty corners
where mice skitter
through this-and-that—
history’s litter.
Those were the days,
they once said,
the toasts of ghosts,
our dead.
A quadrille for dVerse. The prompt word is bold.
Another Poem About Vultures
and how they sky-dance
carrying light on their wings
to banish grey clouds, drawing brilliant-blue
curtains for their cotillion.
I wonder if they dream,
and what their dreams would be—
and if they’d want to know
how their ballet dazzles,
lifts heart-joy in me.
A quadrille for dVerse using the prompt word “wing.” A couple times last week, I watched vultures flying above me, and weirdly perhaps, it really did brighten my mood.
I’m finishing a project, but I will catch up on posts and comments later today!
The Ruins
Leaves of red and yellow fall
wrapping the ruins in rubies and gold.
Once bells tolled, clanging rings,
singing the years and hours–
joy-peals for weddings, clamoring-bongs
when wars were done.
Silence drifts ghost-like in this place
yet, listen–
bells, knelling, an echoing trace.
A seasonal quadrille for dVerse. The prompt word is bell.
A Reason for the Cliché
We track its phases,
cockeyed grin to full-faced smile,
worm to strawberry,
becomes a wolf,
its changing form a constant
reflecting the sun, lighting the night
guiding owls and tides,
with silvered gleam, it sings
lullabies for the sleepless,
a source of poets’ dreams.
A quadrille for my dVerse prompt. The prompt word is track.
September Rain
Early morning is heron-still,
the grey wing-brushed sky waits
for feathered clouds to part,
or sprinkle diamond drops
around sunflowers’ throats,
who smile and tilt their heads,
offer tiny mirrors to bees,
to see a world worked in threads reflected blue,
invisible to us.
A quadrille for dVerse. We’re getting much-needed rain today.
My favorite time of day–
coffee-scented kitchen,
breakfast-fed cat licks his paws,
no human voices,
only star-songs’ glittering traces,
and moon-hums.
She dream-drifts
on cotton candy clouds–
gives a crescent grin,
and I grin back,
the dawn a bright-feathered promise—
crows wake with clatter-clamoring caws,
just so, they say.
A quadrille for dVerse.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 