For dVerse Meeting at the Bar – our host today is Björn who asks us to try our hands at “verbing”
Smoke snaking across the sky
puddling into blood-red haze
tabling my irritation for a time
I quickly google what’s ablaze
Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer ~ Nat King Cole
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Kim881 from Writing in North Norfolk, is our host for this week’s Haibun Monday
“For this challenge, I ask you to think about your own birthdays, ones from the past, one that is coming up, a memorable one, or one you are dreading. Whether it’s birthday cake and balloons, a quiet glass of wine on your own that turned into something memorable, or a complete disaster, I’d like you to share a birthday with us.”
Birthday Magic
Born on a cusp with an aura of blue, a child between signs. Always looking for where she fit in. Black and orange confetti, fairy costumes and pumpkins as happy children dance around the cake table. A birthday wish for magic and a pony.
Birthdays come and birthdays go. Her aura darkens as does the world. No dinner, no parties, nowhere that she fits in. No need to hide her blackened eye. Alone, she makes her birthday wish for magic and love.
Moons wax and wane as life goes on. She finds love again, and trust. Purple and black decorations, a pointy hat adorned with flowers, love and laughter. Amber eyes twinkle with merriment. No need for birthday wishes, she has all she needs, she IS magic.
Candle burning bright
years come and go by too fast
blow the candle out
Strange Magic — ELO
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Our host a dVerse Poets Pub Tuesday Poetics is Laura Bloomsbury, who asks us for our flights of fancy. The following is based on a real life observation of a nesting pair of Great Horned Owls who were being tormented by a scold of very noisy jays. One of the adult owls defiantly lured the jays away and suddenly turned on them, snatching one unwitting fellow right out of the air.
Flight of Fancy/Dance of Death
Whump, whump, whump the air throbs
under the assault of massive wings
three powerful strokes and he is aloft
master of the thermals
He dips one wing in silent condolence
to the pitiful flightless things below
while defiantly flying straight
into the scold of jays, and through
He climbs ever higher, taunting
inconsequential forms of lesser birds
that fall behind in the chase
still jeering they cluster … until
Pivoting on one wing, he falls
with sharp talons and flared wings
like an avenging angel set to smite
their relentless taunting
A silent cloud of black feathers
announces his success
Fly Like an Eagle — Steve Miller Band
Til next time ~Peace ~JP
For dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night. This has been a crazy summer, from pandemics to devastating hail storms. There is a moment before the storm hits when you can almost feel the sky holding her breath … waiting. This summer feels like that to me, as we deal with rising death rates, more lock downs; I’m holding my breath, waiting. The air is moist and oppressive, lightning startling in it’s beauty and power. I don’t know how this will all turn out, but I know this; the sky is always clearer after the storm.
July
July came marching in sultry cadence
as heat rises and skies darken
for a moment all is still
a breeze caresses my cheek
scented with lingering traces
of bar-b-que, sunscreen and sweat
heavy with petrichor and promise
The wind begins to sing
through high tension wires
trees sway in a frantic dance
holding fast to precious leaves
cloth billows and strains
in air heavy with moisture
the scent of roses … and magic
Black cloud castles
remain still and unmoved
anchored to the blue sky
and the lightning begins
I wonder what the storm
will leave in it’s wake
but for now, I watch
and wait
Shelter from the Storm — Bob Dylan
Til next time ~Peace ~JP
For NaPoWriMo day 4 where today we’re writing about dream images
and for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub
Clouds of Dreams
I bounce along the clouds
as they form a path before me
like cobbled stepping stones
solid and multi-hued
but translucent to the light
that pours from the sky
through me, through the clouds
through the stones
reaching down I pluck
a yellow daffodil
as the clouds begin to whirl
and shift beneath my feet
until they part, leaving me
standing in clear air
Dreams — Fleetwood Mac
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Sarahsouthwest is our host for poetics and asks us for something red.
Anger
She was pale, like the waning crescent moon
stark against the black of night
lips painted a shocking garnet
like a vampiress fresh from a feed
Her aura was a blazing shade,
not the cool magenta of sunrise
nor the deep claret of late sunset
but the bright crimson of blood
She wore her anger like a second skin
so tight it seemed ready to split
staining the world a sooty brick
with the blemish of her hatred
Every Rose Has It’s Thorn — Poison
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Mish brings us this week’s dVerse Poetics and bids us contemplate what we have gained through personal (or global) crisis.
Like the Moon I Rise
Like the moon, I rise
from the darkness
to brighten the very sky
like the moon, I rise
Like the pheonix, I rise
from fire and ash
I spread my wings and fly
like the pheonix, I rise
Sorrow cannot keep me down
when in pools of darkness
I fear to drown
like the sun, I rise
Every day, warm or cold
night may bring good-bye
but, every morning,
like the sun I rise
At Last I See the Light — from Tangled
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Linda Lee Lyberg is 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
word count 44
Strange Magic – ELO
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
Whimsy Gizmo is hosting dVerse Quadrille this week and asks us to “stir” things up a bit. Supermoon magic brewing here at chez spoons, so …
Full Moon Magic
Bit of this, pinch of that
tongue of dog, wool of bat
something magic might occur
give the cauldron a thorough stir
Kitchen spoon of a restaurateur
add a pinch of balsam fir
let the powers now confer
full moon magic begins to stir
word count 44
Witches Brew — Omnia
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
For Maria Antonia’s 2020 Picoftheweek photo challenge, my prompt for this week is “blue skies” and for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub, Grace is hosting pop on over and discover something new.
Trip to Loch Lomond
For too long the city air
has seared my lungs
and choked my soul
so away I go
to the Highlands
to clear the air
and free my heart
on the bonnie, bonnie banks
of Loch Lomond
The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond — Ella Roberts
Til next time ~Peace ~JPP
