d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #87: Quick! Nick us a poem!
Change of Plans
This poem has its nickers in a twist –
Is in a bit of a snit.
Someone has nicked the
words it wanted to wear today –
fancy words, high-heeled party words.
All that’s left are some everyday,
comfy words like
tea, books, you
dVerse Poetics: On All Things Feline!
The cats are taking over at d’Verse Poets Pub
Lenny – (a Lannet)
We buried him beneath the garden bench
where I would take my morning cup of tea
to share the highlights of my yesterday.
I often thought I heard his rumbling purr,
although I knew it’s just my wishful heart
imagining that he was still around,
still chasing after bugs, both real and not.
Still crawling under sheets when I make beds,
still hiding deep within a paper bag
then jumping out to grab me as I pass.
He followed me around just like a pup –
a nosey, noisy, sleek white, furry friend.
Quiet unexpectedly we found him gone
and buried him beneath the garden bench.
d’Verse Poets Pub : Quadrille -…and the most beautiful words are . . .
Thanks to Lillian for sharing the 70 most beautiful words in the English language – according to a survey conducted by the British Council.
Today’s challenge is to write a Quadrille (just 44 words) using the word tranquility.
She scattered seeds and hoped for sunflowers
that would provide for birds and bumble bees.
She nurtured those small seedlings like a mother,
danced under her umbrella when it rained, and
giggled at the sight of a rainbow.
She scatted grace and found tranquility
d’Verse Poets Pub – Prosery #3: Love After Love
I’m Kim from Writing in North Norfolk, welcoming dVerse poets to the third ever Prosery prompt, when we ask you to write a very short piece of prose that tells a story, with a beginning, a middle and an end, in any genre of your choice.
As it’s flash fiction, we have a limit of 144 words; an additional challenge is to hit 144 exactly. The special thing about Prosery is that we give you a complete line from a poem, which must be included somewhere in your story, within the 144-word limit.
For the third Prosery, I’d like you to write a story that includes the following line from ‘Love After Love’, a poem by Derek Walcott:
‘You will love again the stranger who was your self’.
The Last Cousin
I carefully pack a dozen jars of homemade grape jam into a cardboard box. Each jar is wrapped in newspaper to keep them from banging together on the three-hour drive to Lake Erie. The buns and a tub of peanut butter are already in the back of my Jeep.
It’s the annual ‘Cousinfest” weekend. I’m the only one left of five. I plan to hold a remembrance ceremony on the beach. I’ll stay up all night eating PB&J sandwiches, that had been our tradition since we were teenagers. In the morning, I’ll scatter the ashes of cousin Number Four in the rose garden of the beach house.
I don’t know how I’ll carry on without those girls who were closer to me than sisters.
I hold tight to the last words of Number Four, “You will love again the stranger who was your self”.
Poetic Bloomings – PROMPT #254 – SECOND WIND
d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics : Purifying the Mind
Just for Now
I will become a spectator
For a while
I will look at art
Smell some roses
Read some poems
And when I get my second wind
Perhaps I will be the
Painter, gardener, poet
d’Verse Poets Pub – Prosery #2 – Sarah has challenged us to write some flash fiction of no more than 144 words using this quote from Alice Oswald’s poem “Full Moon” — “I dreamt I was the moon.”
He turned off the flashlight and we were left in total darkness. The only sound was water lapping against the side of our small flat-bottom boat. Every now and then, a drop of water from the roof of the cave landed on my head.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a little cave kiss,” he said.
I began to wonder why I agreed to this trip. I didn’t like caves, boats ,or darkness. I did love this man who loved spelunking so, I closed my eyes and I dreamt I was the moon.
d’Verse Poets Pub – Meet Jackie Hurlbert
– photo by Jackie Hurlbert-
When evening tip-toes in
To calm the industry of day
When light begins to dim and wind
Becomes a gentle breath
These are the moments birds whisper
Songs to me, filling my dreams
With the hope of their voices