A twisted tail

Round and round the light did turn
casting shapes upon the waves
dolphins leap and waters churn
imaginings mortal memory saves
ships of wood and men of steel
twisted tales from days of old
siren’s dirge the bells doth peal
from waters deep and bitter cold

For Crimsons Creative Challenge #113
also linked to JusJoJan #8

Til next time ~stay trippy hippies ~JP

The Deer and I

The Deer and I

Here where the artesian spring gurgles up through the ground, I pause. My intuition stirs, something. I glance behind and see him there, browsing amongst the fading autumn grass. I sense no fear from him, no tensing of muscle and sinew. Why should he flee? My soft pink form is no threat to him. I wonder if he knows, something inside, outside the bounds of human knowing. I would not harm him, nor his home.

Others are treacherous and wasteful, caring not for the needs of growing things. Contemptuous of all they deem lesser, and all is less. But for now, we are content to share this bit of world, the deer and I. I smile and he turns away from the warmth of sun on waning grass; away from me.

We drink from the stream,
with a warm delight – the same
the deer and I

For Haibun Monday at dVerse
and Just Jot It January – gurgle


Til next time ~Stay trippy hippies ~JP


For Crimsons Creative Challenge 112
also linked to JusJoJan


Let me sit at the feet of sages
content to receive the learning
with gladdened heart and open mind

To learn the Holy Mysteries
of the Sacred Ordinary nights
and Mystically Mundane days

Years turn to reflections
like mirrors to my soul
of days that I have known

Wonders shining back at me
filled with promise of futures
and blessings as yet unseen


Til next time ~Stay trippy fellow hippies ~JP

Tuesday Poetry — Sunlight on Snow

Stream in Custer State Park, South Dakota

Scattered drifts of unmelted snow
upon a polka dot landscape bright with sun
Winter unwilling to conceded defeat

Inspiration buzzes in the back of my mind
effervescence of emotion and sight
refracting in tiny bursts, my own light

My mind hums with rhythms of poetry,
song and perhaps a little madness
bright and fleeting, like diamond glints on snow


Til next time  ~Peace  ~JP

Sunday Stills – Quality of Light

For Terri’s Sunday Stills our prompt this week is lights. Like a lot of folk, I immediately thought of Holiday lights. Honestly, they are virtually non-existent for us. It’s hard to string up lights around an RV and neither of us drive much at night for local viewing. After reading Terri’s post though, I realized that “lights” doesn’t necessarily mean Holiday. As an artist, I find I’m always looking for that particular … something, a certain quality of light that sparks the imagination, and ignites the soul.

Certain Quality of Light

The air alive with magic, the world awash
with a certain quality of light
eyes open to incandescent beauty
of the new day, brave and bright
my poor heart trembling,
I breathe, weeping with delight
The moment passed too quickly
but never will I forget the sigh
of a world alive with magic
and that certain quality of light


Dawn on the beach
Heceta Head Lighthouse – Florence, Oregon
Sunlight on Hibiscus
A dreamer can only find her way by moonlight
“Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow, lies the seed that with the sun’s light, in the spring becomes the rose”

And finally, for those of you who just NEED that Holiday Lights fix, my fav

Til next time  ~Peace ~JP

CCC – Lovers Leap

For Crimson’s Creative Challenge 109

Lovers Leap

Waves pound against the beach
far below the “lovers leap”
tourists come to gawk in vain
searching for the charred remains
where lovers leapt to their demise
their dirge a seagull’s mournful cry
rest they here beyond sorrow’s reach
as waves pound against the beach


Til next time ~Peace ~JP

Poetics – South Wind

Salt Flats Death Valley

SarahSouthwest is our host at dVerse Poetics this week. She has asked us to write a poem based on a chosen title HERE.

They Say that Only the South Wind Flattens Grass

The South Wind flattened grass that day
we watched as they filed past
skies billowing noxious clouds of grey
with putrid remains of toxic gas

No mercy left within their eyes
bodies bent with pain and sorrow
the harbingers of death and lies
hold no hope for tomorrow

The South Wind flattens more than grass
where verdant crops once grew
sorrow’s seed will now trespass
grief take wing where sparrows flew

Nowhere left to hide, we fled
while broken dreams around us lay
on fallow ground now stained bright red
the South Wind flattened grass that day

Til next time  ~Peace ~JP

Ode to soup – a quadrille

Lisa is hosting our dVerse quadrille challenge with our prompt of “abide”

When I first read the prompt, my mind immediately went to love poetry, not quite my mood today. The winds are fierce and I am practicing a little kitchen witchery with a chicken carcass.  Naturally, I immediately thought of soup. I make soup like my Grandma made, boiling left-over bones down for stock. My kitchen (OK actually my whole house) smells divine on this blustery autumn day. On chilly windy days, we made soup and she would tell me the story of “Stone Soup” ah but that’s a tale for another day.

Soup – a meal in a can?

“Soup’s good for you”, she said
vegetable, chicken or chili instead
served piping hot with cheese and bread.
Canned soups I simply can’t abide
never knowing what may lurk inside
too often thin, tasteless, and bland
so I make my own whenever I can

word count 44

Til next time  ~Peace ~JP