oh my weary soles - pause for a breath of fresh air
a yellow-jacket alights on clover
while cheerful dandelions smile up at me

twin daisies in seersucker sundresses
miniature entrepenuers selling their wares
just 50 cents a glass, fresh-squeezed

in my golden field of dreams, summer's splendor never fades




your padded paws quiver and twitch
muffled whimpers escape canine dreams
are you chasing rabbits?

as we trod on earthen paths
a flicker of yellow catches our eyes - a goldfinch?
these silent strolls are priceless

you are my faithful companion, my friend



mascara and lip gloss, a straightener radiating heat
a heap of Egyptian cotton, haphazardly abandoned
no time for a backwards glance

Emily and Emilie, joined at the hip
donning bikinis and sunscreen - eating icecream
having too much fun to notice the boys

best friends, not yet women - not a care in the world



I softly kiss your balding head
you wiped my tears and cooled my fever
now it's time I cared for you

we share a rose blush toast, tears and laughter
on a lazy Indian summer afternoon
celebrating you and life's victories

after the chemo, there is much to be grateful for



a jumble of bruised elbows and battered knees
scramble for the fumbled pig-skin prize
these girls aint no powderpuffs!

crepe paper and balloons parade down Main Street
keeping time with the brass and bass
while the queen holds court from Daddy's Corvette

homecoming week has arrived!




red geranium carpets roll out
before polished marble stairways
broadcasting cheerful greetings to passersby

trembling beneath sateen sheets
in a king-sized retreat meant for two
with adulterated passion, she embraces Jack Daniels

mahogany doors belie a shattered suburban life



a palette of oils nestled next to the artist's brush,
green spectacles on a garden table
inspired by garden's splendor, he strokes the canvas

waterlillies float beneath a Japanese bridge,
calm ponds reflect shimmering shadow and light
visitors, drawn like hummingbirds to nectar, come to Giverny

this is Monet's legacy


For a mad troubadour!
 

since time immemorial,
this woodland, elegant and menacing
in its grey and white plumage,
shifts in and out
over the generations

the valley mires or bogs,
fallow, roe and red,
move at a snail's pace;
wind-borne seeds, set alight
in controlled burns

out on the open heath,
detritus, duff and the O horizon,
a myriad of mosses, fungi and ferns
fill the forest floor
not static, but forever changing

between the branches,
the forest also teems
with decomposers and predators
gliding over the heather
through litterfall

human interlopers,
transparent and colorless,
remaining in situ
within the perambulation
have scarcely started to rot

their gently decomposing trunks
also wield salient features;
a stout magnum chaffinch
covered with epithelial cilia
already overgrown with moss

even in the winter,
as we pick our way between lichen,
shelled gastropods are served
in cheap snack houses and taverns
these in turn are food for insects

when a tree falls in the forest,
succeeding waves of muscular contractions,
trees will fill the canopy void
some saplings win the silent struggle
of the deadly sin of sloth

elsewhere in the forest, another tree will fall and begin the process anew



A forest floor flarf...for Alfred
 

five cinquains

         or if you prefer

                   a cinq cinqain

                             just for fun!



         HIGHER!
         in seersucker
         Sally sweeps clear, blue skies
         singing silly songs backward and
         forward


                                                 twirling
                                                 FASTER! FASTER!
                                                 in a dizzying swirl
                                                 of kaliedescope hues, Mary
                                                 goes round



                   young Jack
                   striking matches
                   lighting up firecrackers
                   tonight, he'll sit in the corner
                   NO PIE????

                                                           see Dick
                                                           count to fifteen
                                                           peeking between fingers
                                                           clever girl, leaps from an oak tree
                                                           RUN JANE!


feet first
wee Willy slides
a wild, slippery ride
down silver, bun-blistering slopes
OWEEEEEE!!!!!



                                                                                                                       
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
 

on patchwork dreams, we fantasize.
Luna's cool blue shadows entrance,
waltzing 'neath star strewn summer skies.

resounding glacial streams' reprise;
dulcet ballads of happenstance,
on patchwork dreams, we fantasize.

twilight's lovelorn...from sleep, arise!
night owls flutter and whitetails prance,
waltzing 'neath star strewn summer skies.

cricket song enraptures fireflies.
impassioned, they succumb to chance.
on patchwork dreams, we fantasize.

beyond the aspens' darkened guise,
loons and sapsuckers find romance,
waltzing 'neath star strewn summer skies.

lulled by June's balmy, restful sighs,
we fuse, immersed in nightfall's dance;
on patchwork dreams, we fantasize,
waltzing 'neath star strewn summer skies.


Villanelle in tetrameter
Written for Tuesday Morning Cantos.

My first ever attempt at a Villanelle in tetrameter. I have a new respect for this form and those who do it well...It was certainly a challenge!

A special thank you to alfred booth, wanbli ska for supporting my endeavors.

amongst tidy rows of innocence,
like proud stars on a field of blue,
she stands...

I pledge allegiance to the flag

youthful, olive skin,
almond eyes gazing
upward,
tiny hand over heart saluting,
she feels freedom's beat.
lub-dub, lub-dub

of the United States of America,

amongst narrow rows of drudgery,
like rigid stripes of white and red,
she sits...

and to the Republic, for which it stands,

sallow, weathered flesh,
almond eyes peering
downcast,
calloused hands and heart stitching,
she hears serfdom's rhythm.
whir, whir, whir, whir

One nation, under God...



Written for Tuesday Morning Cantos




 

She was effervescent
and sweet, like an orange Crush
that tickles your nose.
One day, she sported
a brand new pair of socks,
with paisley, stripes
and polka dots.
Some folks whispered,
"Too gaudy."
"Too loud."
"Like a pyschedelic trip"
"Or a three-year-old
who dresses herself."
But she wore them proudly
and she was an amiable gal,
breezy and fun
like a kite
on a warm summer's day.
So with mirrored shades,
friends accepted her silly stockings
as part of her,
overlooking their absurdity
for her sake.
Now on occasion,
she would discover
a thread, or two
protruding like an earthworm
on an April morn.
But since they were her favorite socks,
in kaleidoscopic hues,
she lovingly snipped at them,
like spent geranium blooms.

And then one fine day
she ran 26K, donning
her lively leggings
for luck.
She barely noticed at first,
when things started to unravel.
As she paced herself,
the tiny tear
was but a trivial annoyance;
a mosquito buzzing in her ear
or an eggshell
in her omelette.
But as it grew, it became
a most unwelcome distraction;
a deflated tire
during rush hour,
or a cigarette butt
in her drinking glass.
As she paused to let
others pass, she removed
her running shoes.
Her tender digit was
a sickly shade of blurple,
choked as if by
a lynch man's noose.
So she peeled away
the offending pair
abandoning them
on the road side.
When she reached the finish line,
her chums were there
and they bantered and cheered
as if she'd won the gold.
But as July's sun set
in the western sky,
she waved goodbye and embarked upon
another sock shopping
excursion.


A Hole in the Toe

written for Tuesday Morning Cantos and inspired by Brianna, who donned paisley, stripes and polka dots at school one day
 

As he commandeers the yellow streak across suburbia,
does he see her trusting eyes?
amidst the throngs of freckle-faced hero worshippers
bouncing and waving frantically.

Come inside...I have something I want to show you.

As the warning lights flash and the sirens blare,
does he hear her protests?
buried beneath the silence of submission,
because she was taught to respect men in uniform.

Relax...This won't hurt.

As he reaches through the scorching haze,
does he feel her fragile form?
trembling in fear,as something precious
is taken from her forever.

Don't be scared...I'll take good care of you.

As streams of sweat pour down his face,
does he taste her tears?
beads of confusion and bitterness,
as she wonders why this is happening.

You're a pretty little flower...That's a good girl.

As warm trickles wash away the rancid stench of a day's work
does he consider her?
attempting to scrub away the filth and the shame,
knowing that she's forever tarnished.

No one has to know...It'll be our little secret.

As he's decorated before the admiring eyes of the public,
does he regard her?
or does his lust for innocence cause his heart
to be as calloused as the hands that save lives?

Don't tell anyone...No one will believe you anyway.





*Author's note...I'm aware that some readers will find this verse disturbing, possibly even offensive. I want to make it clear that I mean no disrespect to those who risk their lives for the public's safety. I only wish to illustrate that a fallible human being lies beneath the hero's facade.


written for Tuesday Morning Cantos
 

I'm currently taking a poetry class, entitled Tuesday Morning Cantos, offered by our own NOVAcatmando . Our first assignment was to compose a haiku using one of three prompts. I selected "April Showers" for my offering and came up with three variations. I'm curious about which readers prefer. My efforts...

Skies dim to charcoal...
~~ Flora imparts gratitude ~~
Fauna seeks refuge...

"April's Rite"

Baptismal rains fall...
~~ Flora imparts reverence ~~
Fauna's psalms resound

"April's Liturgy"

Sky turns down the lights...
~~ Flora dons her Spring attire ~~
Where's my umbrella?

"April's Gala"

 

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