A Scintilla of Hope

A Scintilla of Hope

 

It survived like a susurrus

in the Autumn garden

A small spark, brightly shining

through the increasing feuillemort

and shortened days

An aliferous creature that was

about to begin a perilous journey

to ensure to continuation of its species

I watched, humbled by the courage

of this belle ame as it flew away,

needing nothing more from me but a prayer

 

* It’s migration season for the Monarch butterflies, which have recently been put on the endangered species list.  Plant some milkweed.

Mish, I hope I used these lovely words correctly. Thanks for this ‘wordiferous’ prompt

 

Out of Oz

Out of Oz

 

This poem is tripping down the yellow brick road

Stumbling over letters stuck in the cracks

Picking them up and filling its pockets

Saving them for a rainy day

Looking for some wizard to give it words

Of en(courage)ment, a phrase or two to

Send its ruby red heart spinning home again

But there is no one lurking behind the curtain

No one waiting with badges or magic spells

Only a little dog who remembers the way

So it spills words upon the bricks and

Writes a goodbye letter to this emerald mirage

 

August Again

August Again

 

It’s hot and you are grumpy.

All the tomatoes are ripening at once,

the cucumbers are wilting, and the

neighbor’s orange cat is using the flower

bed for a litter box.

The garden looks tired, worn out, as if

it just doesn’t care any more.

The Sun is an unrelenting ball of heat.

The night air carries no coolness.

I sit by the open kitchen window wondering

if this month has any redeeming qualities

when in a corner of the yard I see the large

white blossoms of the moonflower vine. This

glow of promise amid the darkness reminds me

that each season holds a beauty of its very own.

I shall make it my mission to search for it.

 

Tethered

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: March Wind Ekphrastic

I used the painting by John Sloan, Sun and Wind on the Roof

 

Tethered

 

 

I wish for wings to take me

sailing over these rooftops

Wings that flap like the shirts and

sheets on this line, struggling for release

into an unknown world

Yet, like the sheets, I am tethered to

this place – not with ropes and pegs,

but with invisible threads that

bind my heart to yours