Posted in goraikou, poetry, quadrille

Longing for Winks

d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #68: Winkle, Winkle, Little Poem

De is tending bar at the Pub tonight. Stop by and give her a *wink*

Longing for Winks

 
This poem has grown weary of
Trying to be clever, whenever
All it really wants is to catch
Forty winks – to slink off to bed
Get some beauty sleep with sheep,
Instead
This poem winks at the stars
And beams at the moon

Posted in PAD, Poetic Asides, poetry

Before Sleep Claims Me

Day 2 – darkest hour

Before Sleep Claims Me

 
They come, unbidden
In the darkest hour before
Sleep claims my wandering mind
Kind words unspoken
Good deeds undone
Running rampant through
The crevices of my brain
Until the gentle lullaby of
Morpheus sends me to that
Land of dreams with a promise
That tomorrow I can begin anew

Posted in Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, poetry

Friendship

Weekend Mini-Challenge: Out of Your Own Words
I’m using the line, solitude is my friend, from my poem Simply Me

~
Friendship

solitude is my friend
she sits quietly beside me
holding my hand
whispering in my ear
telling me my words matter

solitude is my friend
she nudges my muse
into wakefulness when
morning slips through
the kitchen window

solitude is my friend
she sits quietly beside me
as night steals the light
comforting me with her presence
until sleep taps me on the shoulder

Posted in NaPoWriMo, poetry

Last Night

NaPoWriMo Day twenty-three – a double elevenie

~

Last Night – (a double elevenie)

 

Quilt

Blue squares

Pieced and stitched

Tucked under my chin

Sleep

Pillow

Feathery soft

Beneath my head

Tired eyes drift closed

Dream

Posted in Uncategorized

Sevenling

the gentle moon peeked in
smiled at me
sang me a lullaby

the morning sun appeared
shook me awake
without sweet song

tonight I’ll draw the drapes

~~
De is tending bar at d’Verse  Poets Pub and has challenged us to write a
Sevenling. Here’s my attempt.

Posted in Uncategorized

Perchance to Write

The Poet's Sleep by Chang Houg Ahn
The Poet’s Sleep
by Chang Houg Ahn

The poet rested his head atop

the empty page surrounded

by shards of words

The petals of his mind

folded in sleep

Voices of long dead

muses whispered in his

unhearing ear

Morpheus and the Sandman

danced across the void

of his consciousness while

the music of sages played on

When the quietus of night

fell upon him he rose

up to find profound scribbles

had appeared where blankness

had prevailed

Whose words they were

he did not know