The Howling Moon
Clear winter night, no clouds,
perfect for watching the full moon rise.
It’s called the Wolf Moon.
I can see my breath, suspended in air, and
wonder about that name. Do you think
this cold winter moon howls for the many
who shiver tonight?
—
Happy New Year !
A Brighter Day
Same Carols, same twinkling lights
Same Santa ringing a bell
Year by year the people notice
less and less, taking it for granted
Until a small girl in a red hat
walked down the city street. When
she smiled, she tinseled the whole day
We Come Once More
We come, once more, to this
thankful
season. A time of introspection for
poets
whose cups spill over with syllables of love,
with souls
filled to the brim with joy and sadness, and hearts
that beat
out the rhythm of life and death
with truth.
The Squirrel Forest
She laughs at the squirrel running
back and forth across her yard
frantically burying acorns in random
places. Will it ever remember
each spot so it can return in barren
winter to dig up that morsel?
She knows that in the spring
she will be pulling saplings from
her flower beds, left overs from
some hidden bounty. As she watches,
she wanders if it might have been squirrels
that planted the forest at the edge of her yard.
Changing Wind
The wind came blowing through
the trees today, making the leaves
shiver in fear. It was a changed wind,
colder, more sinister. The clouds were
rudely pushed aside by this bully wind and
I heard it whisper through my window,
“Ready or not, here I come.”
Smoke Signals
Puffs of white clouds drift
slowly past like cosmic
smoke signals, carrying
messages that I do not
understand. I wish for words
that I can see written across
the sky, or a whisper from deep
inside the biggest cloud that
I can hear. I watch them scurry
away, pushed by the wind, the
way they’ve always done and
I think they are trying to tell me
the world is still turning and
all will be well.
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille # 137: Throwing Poem Stones
Duck! De Jackson has us throwing stones at each other.
The Rescue
I rescued a katydid from the pool this morning,
laying it gently on the deck, hoping it will dry
out, crawl away. Rain is in the forecast,
so I move it to a stone under a broad leaf.
I hope it’s a lucky stone.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/10/04/quadrille-137-throwing-poem-stones/
d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics – Dungeons and Derivatives
Quite a challenge today! Choose a line from one of Sanaa’a poems and write your own poem using derivatives of its words.
Here is my attempt using the following line:
5 “The rustling of leaves; I have stood many a time at the doorway of dreaming.” – Buck Moon ~ Part two: Seeing things.
The Coming Change
Flower petals hang limp and faded
their leaves spotted with disease
The sun’s warmth is abandoning us –
tilting away to warm the faces of others
leaving no heat to see us through the night
Even the geese mock us, honking as
they fly across the sky in formation
Gentle breezes have turned a cold shoulder and
Rusted leaves stand in the doorway of my dreams
—
https://dversepoets.com/2021/09/07/poetics-dungeons-and-derivatives/
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #135: Shake that Poem Groove Thang
Forever Grooving
The needle dropped into the
groove of the old 45-
scratchy sounds of rock’n roll
filled the room. Her hips
and heart began to sway,
images of a high school gym
filled with teenagers floated
behind her closed eyes, and
she felt groovy again.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/09/06/quadrille-135-shake-that-poem-groove-thang/
rhymeswithbug 