A place for poems and pics
These Times
I roll my eyes and clench my fists –
watch the news until I can endure no more.
Truth has abandoned society and
left us with madness.
It is the worst of times.
Then the hoot of a barred owl in the woods
calls me to leave it all behind, to
sit outside, to bathe in moonbeams
and breath deeply.
It is the best of times.
Altered Heart
It’s time to take my heart off my sleeve –
unpin the rough edges,
smooth it out, look for tears.
It’s time to mend some holes and,
after a few alterations, gently stitch it
back where it belongs for the
whole world to see.
I Remember
I remember the hoot of an owl
coming from the ancient woods
on a clear winter night, the crackle
of dry leaves as some small creature sought
refuge, and the moon, shining like a spotlight,
on two lost souls who had found each other.
Quadrille #219 – A Poetic Hootenanny
Finding Grace
I never liked my name. Candace
Grace is
too fancy, too grand for my
simple
soul, that loves the sound of birds
and the
glow of moonbeams dancing through my
open
window in the darkness. This is where my
heart is
content and my spirit can sing along in harmony to
its key
https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/06/mtb-the-poetry-of-names/
Spring Again
Next week it will be Spring
again
The crocus and daffodils, that waited beside the
tulips
for the slanting sun rays to warm the earth,
will bloom
and dull winter birds will put on their best feathers
looking
for mates and building nests, never doubting miracles –
like hope
https://dversepoets.com/2025/03/06/mtb-the-poetry-of-names/
I am Air
I breath it in
and speak it out
in puffs of thoughts
formed into words
I breath it in
and shout it out
in curses of anger and despair
I breath it in
and sigh it out
in fervent whispers of hope
I am air
and breath
and life
https://dversepoets.com/2025/02/25/tuesday-poetics-the-four-elements-2/
I’ve Got the Indigo Blues
Not the ordinary blues of
a rainy day or a cancelled adventure
Not the melancholy blues of
a romance that failed
Not even the deep-as-the-ocean blues of
missing someone special
I’ve got the indigo blues of
squashed hope and torched joy-
Just for now
It’s Quadrille Monday!
A Quiet Transfer
The year does not go out with a bang
in spite of the fireworks –
in spite of the music and horns.
While the people sing and celebrate
the old year and the new quietly shake
hands as the mantle of responsibility is exchanged.
Quadrille #214: Going out with a Bang!
Spring Clean
I’’m letting go of all the bits and bobs
that have accumulated in my heart –
feelings that no longer fit or that pinch
its soft places. I’m sweeping out the
people and places that have gathered in
corners like spider webs. I’m doing a Spring
clean in the basement chambers, going
through boxed up memories, keeping only
the most precious and releasing the rest
to be blown away by winds of change
Golconda by Rene Magritte
Everything We See
Holes in the Heart
How sharp does a word need to be
to pierce the shield woven around a heart?
As sharp as a knife blade or the thorn
on a rose bush, or could it
be a single pin prick couched in the soft folds
of tenderness?
Quadrille #197: Look Sharp, Now! (Let’s write a poem.)
rhymeswithbug 