WhimsyGizmo is our host for dVerse Quadrille. De being in Southern Nevada (ooohhh I’m sweating just thinking about it) has asked us for a poem of 44 words including “stream.” I am currently enjoying the relative cool of inland Oregon where streams, creeks, rivers, and lakes are abundant. Ahhhh … sigh. For your perusal, “Stream”
De (aka WhimsyGizmo) is hosting Quadrilles at dVerse Poets Pub and has asked for a poem about “bother” what bothers us, what do we find bothersome? What gets us hot and bothered? Hmmm … as I poke my muse repeatedly until she finally gets tired of being bothered and manages to convey some sort of inspiration.
Dreams of Late — a quadrille
At night of late dark dreams have come frightening and bothersome dark shapes I cannot see swoop, harass and bother me moonless skies throughout the night colors fading from my sight searching for the moon’s bright light I wake to find it’s all illusion
For dVerse Poets Pub where Sarahsouthwest is hosting quadrilles. Our inspiration for this edition is “swift”
Poetry and Madness
My thoughts flit and dive like starlings and swifts always aflight, with glimpses of exquisite confusion My mind buzzing like cicadas in summer with memories of magic afire with scraps of poetry and madness a fevered rhythm of need as the sun swiftly sets
Windows tight against the storm curtains straight, nothing flutters it is the way of storms to blow wind pounding against shutters leaves to fall and scatter winds of change wash over me as raindrops fall and splatter cleansing my spirit my soul set free
The trail was hardscrabble and loose sienna sand bluejays singing babble sky grey and bland over boulders I grappled as gait became unsteady leeside shade was dappled paint and canvas at the ready the clouds begin to part I begin dabbling at my art
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
Your voice reached my ears and drew my eyes to you with all the force of an electro-magnet my heart followed the way a compass points north and then my mind with unerring precision I know in a manner unknowing precisely where you are
Linda Lee Lybergis our host for quadrille this week and has given us the challenge of “Magic” We could all use a little magic right now.
Looking for Magic
A dandelion wish blown to the wind a grandchild’s kiss my heart to mend look to the rainbow look to the moon look for the magic you’ll find it soon magic of words gentle and kind just look for magic and magic you’ll find