MEMORIES IN MY ARMS

 My arms knew music,
the feel of a violin
my fingers knew the places
where the notes sang well

My arms have forgotten
the weight of a violin
but know well the comforting feel
of a baby in their cradle

My fingers have forgotten
the melodies they played
but they  have been quite adept
at eliciting childish giggles

Maybe one day
when the baby becomes a man
my hands will remember
the curves of a violin again.
A disclaimer: Implications of the poem above notwithstanding, I have never been a (good) violin player. At best, I was an intermediate learner. ūüôā

DVERSE’s OPEN LINK NIGHT 194

The piece was a response to PAD 20 Challenge which was to write about a memory or something like that.

THE ART OF LOVE

Love casts out fear, it has been said
but I have never been as scared
as when I loved and gave my heart
to love's power and to its art.
To what folly have I been ensnared?

Alone, I fly free, as a bird
leading its wings to paths it dared
fly, with no one to lose or hurt.
Love casts out fear -

in soothing tones, it calls, I learned
and followed where my soul love steered - 
a full life seen from all its parts
as its Maker had planned.  His art,
Love, casts out fear.


~~~~~

Written for PAD Challenge - Day 3 - "_____________ of Love"
Linking with DVERSE OPEN LINK NIGHT

An attempt at writing a Rondeau.

SPRING DEER

He did not know what he was doing.
His brain was addled from the long winter - 
there was no more food in his part of the woods
His coat was getting dull
It was a matter of survival -
stealing into the orchard
to nibble at the blueberry  buds
just before the sun peeked in the horizon.
He was careful to stay hidden
behind the trunk of the big mulberry;
He had already made the owner quite angry
by his intrusions.
He was going to run
across the mounds of snow
just as he used to
    but he was 
    so hungry

         so hungry

             he had to eat

	         and 

                     eat 

		as much 

		as he 
			could eat.

he did not hear
     the house door creak

or 
     the shotgun's squeak

he did not heed
his sprinting herd

but he did 
feel
the   kiss 

of 

        lethal 
                    steel.


~~~~~~

For DVerse Poets' Anthropomorphism prompt by Lillian.

MAGNOLIA


My beauty lasts but a short time
and all I have, to you I give -
     My velvet blooms, capture in rhyme
     My beauty lasts but a short time
Before rains make my death knells chime
     I hope I lived my cause to live
My beauty lasts but a short time
and all I have, to you I give.


~~~~

For dVerse's POetics:  From Nature's Point of View

A ROSE BY THE LIVING WATERS

"By a voice he saith: Hear me, ye divine offspring, and bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters. [18] Give ye a sweet odour as frankincense. [19] Send forth flowers, as the lily, and yield a smell, and bring forth leaves in grace, and praise with canticles, and bless the Lord in his works." (Ecclesiaticus, a.k.a. Sirach, 39:17-18)
  

I am a rose by the living waters
My roots reach deep into the river’s bed
My thorny arms reach out to the heavens

Angelic choirs descend from the heavens
their arms full of graces poured like waters
upon the earth. I quicken in my bed

Glorious is the sunrise warming my bed
Blessed are the rains sent by the heavens
This humble flower, my own Lord waters

Pure waters  cleanse my bed to yield roses for the heavens.