Of Peace and Drama

~ Candace ~ 14 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Garden(ing)
https://dversepoets.com/2021/07/13/poetics-gardening/

Of Peace and Drama

she takes her camera to the bit of land that
she works
looking for bees and butterflies hoping
to find
a Monarch flitting among the milkweed she has planted
a place
where they can lay their eggs, where caterpillars munch the leaves
where peace
is sometimes an illusion, as insects and birds play out the drama of who
exists
–

waltmarie#poeticforms

Waltmarie Poetic Form-
10 line poem, any subject, even numbered lines are 2 syllables and form their own poem when read separately. Odd lines are longer with no specific syllable count.

Time Traveler

~ Candace ~ 17 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille 131 – with Brian Miller
the word today is “Juke”

Time Traveler

she has her own Jukebox
an antique with colorful neon lights
she has filled with her favorite 45s
oldies that take her back to dances in the gym
and a boy with slicked back hair
she pushes B5 and dances alone
with her memories

Quadrille 131 – with Brian Miller

summer troiku

~ Candace ~ Leave a comment

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai #1845 Troiku Challenge: Summertime


http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2021/06/carpe-diem-haiku-kai-1845-troiku.html

at the seashore
wind of summer through my hair
the shortest night

© Chèvrefeuille

—

at the seashore
small boy with his orange bucket
builds a new world

–

wind of summer through my hair
tells tales of the ancients
in a secret language

–

the shortest night
leaves lovers and dreamers
longing for darkness

Beggars Without Bowls

~ Candace ~ 24 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub – MTB: To turn again, about turn again.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/06/03/mtb-to-turn-again-about-turn-again/

–

Beggars Without Bowls

I offer seeds and nuts to the beggars
and they come, big and small, begging,


without bowls, for alms, for scraps that beg
not to be wasted. And I, like those beggars,


hope for a quick reward, a glimpse, for begging
them with seeds and nuts to appear – those feathered beggars


scavenging for leftovers beneath the feeder, beggars
without bowls in bird-like disguise

Secret Star

~ Candace ~ 12 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: How to Cut a Pomegranate

Poetics: How to Cut a Pomegranate

—-
Secret Star

The ancient apple tree freely gives up its fruit
The universe held safely within the core of its being


Covered tightly in a smooth red skin protecting the wisdom
Of the ages, the stories of past lives, tales of feast and famine


My knife pierces that skin and sweet juices trickle over my fingers
A baptism of holy sweetness, a promise of things to come


And there, in the center where new life is held, I see the secret star

A Curious Deception

~ Candace ~ 10 Comments

A Curious Deception

 

It’s curious how the moon glides calmly

through the night sky, serenely shining down

on peace and wars alike, when all the while

it is tugging and pulling at this planet earth

silently directing time and tides and

migrating birds and you and me

A Goodbye Hymn

~ Candace ~ Leave a comment

A Goodbye Hymn

High overhead the wild geese fly
their honking fades into the air,
a threnody, a sad goodbye

to lakes and ponds that don’t reply,
mallards and coots no longer there.
High overhead the wild geese fly

away from cold wind’s chilling sigh.
They sing a chorus of despair
a threnody, a sad goodbye.

I wave my arms, somehow I try
to call them back, but unaware,
high overhead the wild geese fly.

They call each other, pair to pair,
a melody exquisite, rare,
a threnody, a sad goodbye.

I’ll miss them, strutting smartly by –
their songs like penitential prayer,
as overhead the wild geese fly,
a threnody, a sad goodbye

Spider’s Web

~ Candace ~ 4 Comments

Spider’s Web

I leave the abandoned spider’s web,
empty and lifeless, in the corner of the back porch

an offering for the goldfinches and humming birds, which
they will use as the glue that holds their small nests together,

a shield against wind and rain when eggs hatch – protection
from harm until the hatchlings fledge

instead, I sit in a pool of morning sun and ponder love,
the spider’s web that holds a family together – safe and secure