A place for poems and pics
Victoria has us repeating ourselves over at d’Verse Poets Pub
I’ll Say It Again (and Again and Again)
—
The Stars and Me
I thought I saw the stars wink at me
As if they knew my secret
I thought I heard the stars whisper
As if they might be gossiping
I thought I felt the stars hopping
As if they could share my joy
I thought I whiffed the scent of stardust
As if the stars were blooming
And so I turned my face up
To the sky and blew the stars
A kiss
D’Vers Poets
Poetics : Artisans
Kim is our host for this challenge –
“The challenge is to write a poem about an artisan or wright, for example a weaver, thatcher, wheelwright or carpenter, or any other craftsman you can think of. It can be a real person, you or someone you know, or a fictional person. All I ask is that you emulate the form and/or style of one of the Heaney poems.”
~
The Weaver
She was a weaver known by all
She’d weave for you a throw, a shawl
The wealthy of the town would pay
Three shillings just so they could say
They wore the finest ever made
By the widow living in the glade
She wove some magic in each one
A spell of peace for everyone
I sat each night upon her knee
As warp and weft she taught to me
But when she died her spell died too
And peace remained for just a few
It was to me the burden fell
To learn to weave, the chaos quell
Now to my God each night I’ve prayed
For mercy, I had disobeyed
Slept when sitting at the loom
And her sweet peace I did foredoom
D’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #24 -whisper
De of WhimsyGizmo has challenged us to ‘whisper’ out a Quadrille this week
~
Winter’s Grip
it came in wisp(er)-like
sat in the corner
leaned back, crossed
it’s legs, as if to stay awhile
I covered it with a knitted
afghan but it crept out
from under, crawled
along the floor
gripped my ankles
until Spring knocked on
the door
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille#23 – curl
Borjn is manning the pub and he has us ‘curled’ around the first Quadrille of 2017
~
Hibernation
Leave me curled, furled
Beneath this quilt
Of many pieces
Peace increases
Breathing slows
Toes wiggle
Do not disturb
Perturb
whispered
From my lips
Fingertips hug a
Mug of warm chai
And I sigh
Leave me curled, furled
Beneath this soft thing
Until spring
D’Verse Meeting the Bar – Bob Dylan
Bellwether
He spelled out the conflict
Of our youth
Like the letters on a Ouija board
He held the planchette
Pointing to the emotions
Of the Beat Generation,
The discord of the
Flower Children
Strumming the background
Music that accompanied
The distortions of the decades
Words that have kept the kid
In me alive
Quadrille #18 -Cloud
Kim, from Writing in North Norfolk, is tending bar at d’Verse Poets Pub and has challenged us to write a Quadrille using the word cloud
–
Weather Forecast
the weather man predicts
sunny skies and gentle breezes
a perfect day for picnics, bike rides
and butter pecan ice cream cones
all the things we did together
when we were together
now
alone
inside
the forecast is
cloudy
with a chance of tears
It’s Quadrille time at d’Verse
I got so caught up in the shadows I forgot to watch the word count – duh.
Here’s my revision
~
I walked around the lake
the way we used to
and looked for you when I
heard the hawks
over head
As the sun cast long fingers
of orange across the water
I longed to see your shadow
fall across my path once more
d”Verse Poets Quadrille # 17
De at whimsygizmo is asking us to write about shadows today
Missing Your Shadow
I walked around the lake
the way we used to do
and bought pellets to
feed the ducks
the way we used to do
I looked for you when I
heard the hawks over head
circling in the warm updrafts
I smiled at dogs and children
running past our favorite bench
but the joy was gone
As the sun cast long fingers
of orange across the water
I longed to see your shadow
fall across my path once more
Form for All; The Clerihew at D’Verse Poets Pub
—
If dining with Andrew Zimmern
your stomach just might start to churn
he slurps fish lips from mugs
and eats pig ears,hoofs, and big bugs
~
It’s time again for a Quadrille over at the Pub . The theme is ‘leaves’
The Magician
chewing on leaves
until show time –
hanging upside down,curling
your body into a J, wrapping
yourself in a gold studded shell
no cheap parlor trick – this
is the real thing –
you emerge
wearing a black and orange
cloak and
fly away
rhymeswithbug 