A flower of the midnight garden,
I am cocooned in dreams and lullabies.
My petals are words opening to the moon
(aching to be born) –
The solitude of night is home,
The silence is sweetness welling
anointing me with its perfume.
Here I am, a thought, a bud
waiting to be
beneath the vast expanse of galaxies.
I am mist that rises
when daybreak comes.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, it’s been a while.
The dips and arcs of a bumblebee’s flight
The curve of a blade of grass laden with dewdrops
The twirl of tendrils adorning pea and watermelon vines
My pen traces
Its gel ink glides
Smoothly tracing the lines and curls
Now a flower
Or a butterfly
Morphing into words
Building a poem
Until the once empty pages
Come alive with images
Ever a poor facsimile
Of the beauty that inspired them.
This piece was inspired by DVerse’s Meeting the Bar prompt – stream of consciousness writing. Below is the original of the piece in my own version of chicken scratches.
My little sailboat flounders
In a sea of whispers
Has it forgotten its course
Amidst so many voices
Saying go north, or south, or east, or west?
My little sailboat spins
In the currents.
Is there hope for my sailboat
Ensorcelled as it is
By sweet-voiced sirens
Harboring evil schemes?
Alas! Not the pull of the moon
Nor the push of the winds
Could set my sailboat free.
But, if it could be still
And remember
The cause for its voyage
May she cut its way through the chaos
And find its moorings at last.
—————————
Written for DVerse’s Come Sail prompthttps://dversepoets.com/2020/08/11/come-sail/ and Instagram’s @fallspoetry
#augustfalls20 sea of whispers, pull of the moon.
The dark clouds did not bring the rain
They teased, only to drift away.
Thirsty flowers were left wanting
to quench their thirst on that humid day.
The grasshoppers went on playing
The dark clouds did not bring the rain
But the ants kept on working
building up their pile of summer grain.
Why would a caterpillar care?
It slept soundly in its cocoon.
The dark clouds did not bring the rain,
My heart needed consolation
For the promise that was not kept.
That my eyes see the silver lining –
Perhaps, it is all for the best
The dark clouds did not bring the rain.
Linking with DVerse Poets’ Pub’s Open Link Night.
A caterpillar in its cocoon, so are we in our bodies biding the moment to be a butterfly, free among the flowers silent majesty tender voice of high summer flying into fall an empty cocoon you flew like a butterfly never to return
Written for DVERSE POETS’ PUB’s Meeting the Bar: Haiku Sequence Prompt
Especially remembering my father who passed on earlier in the summer.
Summers are made of these - butterflies frolicking in the sun zucchini growing on the ground barefoot children playing in the yard swooping on brambles like hungry birds grabbing berries with eager hands popsicles dripping on sweaty chin children dancing under the summer rain
Written for DVERSE POETS’ Quadrille prompt: Bramble
My treasures are a visual prayer my eyes delight to see: a garden full of flowers a pocketful of butterflies, flying free; broken seashells smelling of the shore flowered teapots from days of yore cards and notes bearing good wishes faded photos of familiar faces Then, there’s the warmth of sunshine and the freshness of falling rain God’s promise in a rainbow and laughter’s sweet refrain My soul exalts when remembering these common miracles, to say the least. Of gratitude my prayers sing its cadence clearing through the mist.
Linking with DVERSE POETS’ PUB’s Open Link Night
The above poem was inspired by Instagram’s #julyfalls20 prompts: broken seashells and pocketful of butterflies
Not the queenly rose that rules a garden
not the pristine lily that adorns saintly hands
not the cheerful sunflower, nor fragrant jasmine
but a wildflower, unheralded, unseen, I am.
Obscurity is the meadow where I grow
The wealth of the earth is my bed
I dream beneath the stars’ watchful glow
and wake to the birds’ serenade.
He who planted me crowns me with dew
and sends butterflies to kiss my cheeks.
What more could a flower ask?
Serenity is my lot. I have more than enough.
~~~~~~
I am trying to overcome a blogging/writing block. Hopefully, I can be more active with blogging during the summer when school is out.
For DVERSE’s Meeting the Bar – I am, The First Person Narrative prompt.
Days fold into each other –
amorphous monotony beats within walls.
I am the hands of a tuneless clock
constantly moving in circles.
The outside world is as far as an arm
stretched out of the window,
so within reach, so out of reach
isolation crescendoes –
the skies are overcast and grey
spring flowers are blooming unseen
mallards and geese frolic in the pond
oblivious to corona’s ill wind.
fear-laden prayers rise to Heaven –
when will we be free and terror contained?
The smell of baking bread wafts in the kitchen;
the Angelus bells toll their benediction.
How are you all? I hope that you are all well and healthy. To those who are sick, I pray for your quick recovery. Take care all of you. We live in crazy times. Hang in there. This too shall pass.
Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things pass away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things.
He who has God
Finds he lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.
~ St. Teresa of Avila
BENEATH THE MOONLIGHT
Walk with me beneath the moonlight –
We’ll enjoy some moments on our own
while the children’s dreams are taking flight –
Walk with me beneath the moonlight.
We’ll remember when we were alone
dreaming of love. In the dark of night
walk with me. Beneath the moonlight,
we’ll enjoy some moments on our own.
_____
The dust that settles
on the ground is the dust
that marks my forehead,
the dust that will be deep
beneath some graven mark.
From dust, we are
formed, to dust, we are
restored. Who will remember
what was there once
when everything that is
in the end, is what was?
Who will find the future
when the present is lost
to time? Eternity awaits
him who leaves his dust behind.
~~~~~~
For DVERSE;s Poetics Prompt: Impermanence
Dust, because Ash Wednesday
