I flew to the stars shared the vacuum that's their space - chaos bothered me. I ran to the woods lost the world among the trees - the rustling leaves brought the world's cries to me. I rushed to the battlefields muzzled the guns stopped the wars healed some wounds dried some tears still - peace eluded me. I look for peace in the crowd and in the silence of a prayer - the disquiet within clang in my soul. For: WPC: Quest Dverse Poets' Pub: Open Link Night
THE MURDER OF CROWS
Black feathers fell from the skies the ground cracked under the weight of the blood-soaked plumes but shoulders only shrugged the feathers were from crows - No one cries for carrion feeders who have neither charm nor song but incantations of dark omens. Shoulders shrugged as dark feathers rained - the skies are blue again - until beneath their feet the ground at last caved in. ~~~~ Last August, while vacationing in Maine, I noticed several huge bird feathers on the ground. At that time (and to this day), news of summary execution of drug users and pushers in the Philippines dominated the headlines. That bothered me a lot. When Victoria's DVERSE prompt came up, I thought of combining the two images. For: DVerse Poetics: Come Fly with Me
CELLO CARESS
When I run empty I fill up with music the one where the cello sings and caresses my spirit with its voice low and sonorous gently calling pieces of me to life and lifting me up tenderly like a lover holding me by my hands moving me across the room by a slow dance towards the window bathe in light there I lift my eyes where the music glides up towards the skies there I float on a bed of clouds and meld with the breath of existence
This piece and The Swan by St. Saens, which I was listening to prior to this, inspired this little piece of poem. Listening to cello and violin pieces are a favorite way of mine to relax after a long day. I hope you enjoyed the music.🙂
A TALE OF A HIKING SHOE
Someone lost a shoe while hiking in the woods I do not know how he continued, walking over gnarled roots and pebbles. Did he step on a worm or on a slug; or a deer or a bug? What scared him so to leave his shoe behind? A troll or a bear? A chipmunk or a hare? Did the park alarm ring while he was having fun and he had to scoot lest his car became a pumpkin what did he expect to find, a fairy looking for a husband or she, a centaur looking for his maiden? So far nobody claimed the sad laced-up shoe to find his or her love lasting and true. DAILY POST: HIKE
AUTUMN
Leaves
Don't fall
Without you
Turning. Hang on
When the wind blusters
Hold tight when the rain pours
Watch the geese fly south. Behold
The sun go dim or even wait
For Halloween. Do anything but
Fall without unfurling Autumn's banner.
Autumn is Good Friday's empty altar
Stripped of flowers, and colors, and life
Waves of purple draperies  hide
All glory from mortal eyes.
Our feet make leaden steps
Crush the ground below
Leaves crumble
No more
Show.
THE FALLEN SEED
This fallen seed is the hope of winter carrier of life in its death breath secreted in the frozen womb tomb concealing its rebirth. Mirth bides its time to spring Ringing bells peal the resurrection hymn Poems immortalize the glorious dawn when mourning veils are lifted. Afflicted hearts soar to the heavens Incense perfume the air once more Store in the hearts this promise: This fallen seed is the hope of winter.
The photo, by Pauline Eccles, is the inspiration for this poetry prompt by Jane DOugherty - Circles and Cycles. I wrote a second one after the first piece that I made for this prompt turned out to be not a circular poem. Somehow, I missed some important part of the instructions on how to write a proper circular poem. I am glad for the mistake though because I got another chance to write another piece. :-)
AUTUMN’S HYMN
The wind plays Autumn's hymn
Plaintive floating in the air
above the treetops
Through fields
Of plump pumpkins
And golden grains.
Above the clouds
There flows
The staccato call of departing geese
While down below
the laden trees
drum their fruit against the solid earth.
Then at last the russet leaves
join the swelling symphony
humming their rustling tune
while pirouetting down to memory.
when all but the naked trees are gone
and cold, dark silence reigns -
the wind plays Autumn's hymn.
For this poetry prompt, Jane wants us to write a circular poem - one which ends the way it began.
