BROKEN (a Quadrille)


Dreams exploding
like detonated bombs - 
that's the sound of our prayer.
Tears cannot fall fast enough
to drown our pains - 
could they be the rain
coaxing kindness to life
or the glue patching broken 
pieces with gold.
We are wounded
and we soldier on.


For DVerse Poets’ Quadrille prompt – Sound

The photo above is a picture of my sister-in-law's sculpture, a group of exploded heads, that sits in one corner of my in-laws' garden. I have long been intrigued by its theme. After I have written this piece which was inspired by current events (in London, in Marawi City, Philippines - my home country, among others recently hit by terror), I thought that my SIL's work fit the theme.

LEAVENED BREAD

 


Sugar comes back to our kitchen on Holy Saturdays after a forty day absence. It feeds the yeast that leavens the dough for our favorite Easter treat, Philadelphia Sticky Buns. My husband carefully kneads the rising dough and leaves it on a covered bowl to double. Then it will be kneaded again preparatory to a second rising.

While the dough rises, my husband prepares a bed of chopped pecans, corn syrup, and brown sugar in a pan to receive the sticky bun coils. When the dough is ready, our children fight over who will help their Daddy cut and roll the dough into little buns. Each will have a turn, each one’s concentration broken either by daddy’s admonition to put the  bun right side up in the pan or by a child asking, “Is this alright, Daddy?” Soon the pan fills up with dough rolls  distinguished by the age and skill of the hands that shaped them. After awhile,   the aroma of baking bread, caramelizing sugar, and roasting pecans wafts out of the oven and fills every corner of our home.

A season to bloom
the garden yielding its fruits
heading to winter.

For Dverse Poets Haibun Monday:  From the Kitchen of Poets

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.

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

SPRING MORNING

Sundrenched mornings open the day
 sprinkling  diamonds on  sleepy grass
as mist lifts and then   dissipates
puffing the clouds dotting azure skies.

Sparrows twitter up on the trees,
glossy feathers waving in the wind
their bellies filled with early worms
once working on the warming ground.

Silken threads swing from budding twigs
luminous in the spreading light
bearing caterpillars searching 
for   some tender leafy delight.

Shadows recede and colors blur
as busy  folks rush through the day
but the ancient trees stand their ground
to weave  lace with their bursting buds. 


For DVerse's Meeting the Bar, Bjorn wants folks to write a poem inspired by impressionism.  I do not know if I cleared the bar, but it was sure fun thinking of spring. :-) 


SPRING (A Quadrille)


 Spring is
        overrated.
       It is melting 
            snow
                 and 
                     dirt
          muddying up the ground;
             puny greens
                 pushing out
                     with their leafy might.
 Could I help
 hasten the process -
               make flowers bloom
                    faster
                       than they should?
 Waiting is
    a burden 
           yielding 
           its 
        fruit
 in due season.

DVERSE POETS QUADRILLE # 28 – The word is “Spring”