Waiting for Santa

d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #118: In the Inglenook

Waiting for Santa

She fell asleep beside the slowly dying embers
and dreamt of warmer climes, sunny skies.
She only meant to rest a while, hidden in the shadow
of the inglenook, until the clocked chimed midnight
when Santa would return home to grant her Christmas wish.

Timeless Shockwaves

Timeless Shockwaves – a Tri-Fall

two black holes collided
combining
into one, sending waves
that have not subsided
aligning
energy to each other gave

and seven billion years
across space
the hum of this union is real
ripples like souvenirs
a slight trace
to touch this world, wonders reveal

just like black holes our hearts
converging
together become a single beat
not one, but counterparts
emerging
humming with synergy and heat

(I read a news article about two black holes that merged over seven billion years ago. The shockwaves just reached Earth last year. I was determined to use these black holes in a poem.)

The Old Cat

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Make some room
http://dversepoets.com

The Old Cat

The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he claims a spot til it’s no longer new.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

a sunny nook to warm his weary bones –
a padded window seat will surely do
The old cat has no room he calls his own.

Somedays a mournful yeowl he does intone,
when favorite blankets have been left askew.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

preferring quietness, to be alone
to ponder catching flies and mice and shrews.
The old cat has no room he calls his own –

he owns it all, each board and stepping stone.
His humble servants also know it’s true.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

a cardboard box that he can get into
and fall asleep, curled up and unbeknown.
The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he wanders round the space seeking a throne.

The Reality of Gardens

d’Verse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday: Meet Piet
http://dversepoets.com

The Reality of Gardens

On winter days I spend a great deal of time thinking about my flower beds. Outside the wind is blowing wisps of snow around the corner of the house and only the hardiest birds come to the feeders. I stay hunkered down with my dreams and schemes and plans for next summers perfect garden.

When spring sashays her way across the yard I’m faced with more weeds than buds. So begins the relentless battle with ground ivy and winter cress, which have been patiently waiting for those first warm rays of sunshine. My ideal garden vanishes in a puff of reality and I am happy to scatter some seeds in the empty patches of dirt. I’m pretty sure the bees and butterflies don’t visit for the aesthetics.

Outdoor gallery
Blooms of multi-colored zinnias
Abstract garden art