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Category Archives: Love

Cannikin

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Come closer

Lay your head on my chest

Hear the echo of my phantom heart?

Stone-cold and crumbling

Like the rust of my skin

Don’t come in

 

Come closer

Will you taste my hollowed kiss?

This abyss is my gift…to you

Love letters unwritten

Roses ripe of tarnished tin

Don’t come in

 

 

For Poetics at dVerse, we are writing from the perspective of three characters from The Wizard of Oz. Follow the yellow brick road with us!

Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.

 

 

 

To Listen

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I hear the rustle of reeds

Where meadow meets pond

Wails and yodels of the loon

The flit-flutter of dragonfly wings

I have powwows with the stars while

Luna spills stories into my cupped hands

The stoic oak articulates to me, his fears

And I stroke his tired skin

I heed to the beat of my own heart

And the steady rhythm of silence

But when words sail from your tongue

To faraway places

I am still learning

To listen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For this week’s Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub. I am your host and I am asking you to write a poem about something you are still learning. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.  Join us!

Seasoned

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I follow you

Flashlight in hand

Still dimmer than our hearts

Lake of infinity

Lapping to the rhythm of

Silence

Sandy-toed, sips of merlot

You whisper of satellites

Geosynchronous orbits

And how much you love me

Spicing my world

Peppering my skies

With stars

 

 

Join us as I host one of our favourite prompts, the Quadrille at dVerse Poets Pub. 44 words including the word “spice” or any form of it. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.  C’mon….get a little spicy!

 

Image credit: pixabay.com

 

Fusion

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I am of you and you of me

Mingled blues upon the sea

Gentle sway of burnished brine

We fall and rise in tide, in time

 

We fall and rise in tide, in time

Gentle sway of burnished brine

Mingled blues upon the sea

I am of you and you of me

In Search of Glee

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December finds my heart heavy like branches weighted in white. I fail to embrace it. Instead I scoff at the scrambling of over anxious shoppers and assumptions that blaring Christmas music brightens my world. The carefully chosen Fraser fir stands unembellished in the living room for yet another day. You know my funk, that same old funk that fiddles with my mind, this time every year. You roll your eyes in circles of “here we go again” as mine well up.

Gazing out the window, I summon a spindly slice of moon for answers. She is silent. You wrap your arms around me as snowflakes flit and flutter against ink spattered skies. I count them like expectations. You hold me tighter, reminding me that the spirit of Christmas is not measured by the amount of hearts sitting around a table. It beats in the loneliest of hearts, even in the darkest of nights.

night cradles the day

Luna peeks from under veil

one star shines brighter

 

It’s Haibun fun again at dVerse. Toni leads with her expertise on the form and has asked us to write a haibun about a good night, any good night, keeping these haibun rules in mind for the prompt. “1) It is non-fiction 2) It happened directly to you 3) One to two tight paragraphs 4) You end it with a classical seasonal haiku.”  There is lots of time to join in.

There is Light

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The sun paints for you
In hues against blues
Reflections of great sorrow
You gallantly cope
Through beacons of hope
For sunrises and tomorrows

Let skies amaze you
Daybreak embrace you
Memories warmly whisper
Layers of love shine
Heal in your own time
He lives in your heart, sister

 

Dedicated to my sister-in-law, Michelle.

~

At dVerse Poets Pub, Gayle introduces The Alouette, a poetic form consisting of “two or more stanzas of 6 lines each (sestets) with the following set rules: Syllables/Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7 Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b”. 

I Wish

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I wish love grew as ivy

Boundless, disencumbered

Sprouting across spaces

Rainbows of faces

As we sway hand in hand

 

I wish for seas

Of selfish hearts to crash

Against rocky reefs

Dissolve and dilute

In harbors of integrity

 

I wish for all clichéd

World peace, homemade

Stirred, simmered, seasoned

With the very gifts

That God gave us

 

I wish for stars

To forever befuddle me

Amaze me, allude me

Remain unreachable

So I never stop reaching

 …and wishing

 

As your host today at dVerse Poets Pub, I am asking you to leave your worries at the door. Make a wish and write a poem about it. It may be a personal longing or a global vision. Your poem can be serious, humorous or whimsical.

Join us for some “Wishful Thinking”. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.

 

Short Version of a Long Love Story

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We fell in love. Then we met. Yes. That is how it works when sparks fly in cyber space. It all began in a divorce support chat room where the last thing I was looking for was love. After six months of emails, instant messaging, and daily detailed phone conversations, we ran out of questions and the answers were consistent. Seeing each other face to face was just an inevitable step in an already established relationship. Finally a flight was booked. A dear friend drove me to the airport…”dear” because she didn’t question my sanity, at least not openly. I remember my hands trembling as I held my hot tea before boarding a plane to see him for the first time. I wasn’t nervous about traveling 1500 miles to meet this man of my dreams or worried that instead I would be captured by a disturbed internet troll, never to be seen again (though it may have crossed my friend’s mind).  No. He was not the unknown. It was the unfamiliarity of flying, airport procedures like gates, security and layovers that scared the living crap out of me.

A long distance relationship ensued and we became frequent flyers.  I could sleep through take offs, knew which airport restaurants to avoid and was quick on the draw to trade my seat for future free flights. Our love was challenged by distance and immigration procedures but the time spent together was like a hundred honeymoons. This was our life for six years. Elated hellos. Tearful goodbyes. On one sunny day we were riding bikes along a woodland trail in Collingwood, Ontario. We stopped for a moment and he pretended to crouch down to retrieve a water bottle. Instead he looked up at me with a ring.

It’s nine years later and this morning, just like any other morning, I sleepily tap the outside of the electric tea kettle. Yes, it’s hot. He times it well. As I take my favourite orange mug off the shelf, he knows my silence is not for lack of gratitude. He knows I don’t converse until I’ve had at least a half a cup of caffeine…and I know that isn’t easy for him. I know he needs his 15 kilometer bike ride after sitting in an office all day. He knows I need to put my feet up. A tall glass of water waits for me because he knows I probably didn’t drink any all day. He knows me well. It is in this “knowing” that our love keeps growing.

 

Tiny warbler charmed

Beckoned by the westerlies

Warmed by desert sun

 

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Toni asked us to pen a romantic haibun, reminding us also that a haibun is true, not fiction. This is my response.  I think the prose is a work in progress, much like love itself. 

 

Making Scents

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Image credit: pixabay.com

 

 

She made scents to him

Hints of jasmine

Teases of moon-flower

Flutters of frangipani

Gentle wafts swirling

Over sun kissed skin

She was his four o’clock flower

He was her sea breeze lingering

On sandalwood trails

Strolling paths of patchouli

Whispers of mint melding

 

 

Grace is tending bar over at dVerse. We are writing poems about scents.  I was pleasantly surprised after finishing this piece that it happened to be exactly 44 words.  An accidental quadrille!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tinted

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There was that one time

When roses did not seem so

Clichéd

She opened the guitar case

Lo and behold a dozen

Long stem intentions spoke

To her in petals and posies

Laughing at every thorn

And jagged edge

Nurturing her delusions

Of love

 

Written for our last Quadrille Monday before we take a brief summer break over at dVerse Poets Pub. Bjorn has given us the word “rose” to be used in a 44 word poem, excluding the title. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.

Image credit: pixabay.com

 

Maiden of Doubt

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“Oh how meticulous you were
As you loved and molded me
I will assume you loved me
For who would bestow
Upon me the honour
Of such poise and grace
If they did not once taste
The salt on my lips?

Would thou grant me
This queenly perch
Where waterways meet
To extend and greet
Only to leave me
Before the ebb tide?

               Or dost thou love me?”

~

Written for Lillian’s prompt for Poetics, “Chisel me a conversation”.

We are giving sculptures a voice.  Join us at dVerse Poets Pub.

Chasing Sunsets

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September 2015 200

 

We barely finish dinner of cauliflower and chickpea coconut curry, when you suggest we dash to the beach. The sky, like a southwestern painting of burnt orange and turquoise is obstructed by the stately maple tree in our back yard. Donning my fall jacket for the first time this year, I welcome the brisk, blustery air. My flip flops fight the downhill slope as I clutch our camera in one hand and my hair in the other. Somehow, I am surprised to see the lake lashing on tawny shores, oblivious to the solace of the setting sun. The clouds remind me of pieces of cauliflower we have just consumed, but these are now inked with the inevitable gloaming of day’s end. Still amazed by the infinity of the Great Lakes, you take to the camera, capturing all possible angles. I reminisce of similar spontaneous races to canyons in your enchanted land. Was it just for me? I think not, as I watch you take one last photo of gleaming sands soaking in orange.

 

Summer embraces fall
Celestial glow unfading
Reflections of love

 

 


Written for Haibun Monday, a new addition to the schedule over at dVerse Poet’s Pub. This is my first attempt at writing a haibun, a combination of prose and haiku.

 

The Philosophy of Every Breath

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August 2014 192

 

We tread in the turbulence
Only to save ourselves
Creating our own human condition
We set our own foolish fires
As we direct our demise
Blindfolded
Do you ask why?
Do you feel each wispy breath as it
Leaves your tired lungs, wondering
Why we are here?

Listen to the faintest crackle
Of leaves on the forest floor
This is the voice of truth
Feel the soft skin on your lips
As you kiss a baby’s cheek
This is the canvass of innocence
Follow the red lines in the eyes
Of the man begging on the street
This is the road map to justice
And we have lost our way

~

Brian Miller is hosting at dVerse! He asked us to write about philosophy.

 

Pink

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Image credit: Danny Gregory, Flickr

Pink, so stereotypical

Redundantly feminine

Behind rosy lips

Lies the real venom

Like peonies placed

Gently on worn tables

Dripping on doilies

Twisting on fables

Out of the doghouse

With petals of penitence

Tied in a bow

With ribbons of arrogance

He didn’t mean it

This bouquet will speak

Softly in fuchsia

An offering to the weak

~

Today at dVerse, Gabriella introduced us to Danny Gregory, who kindly allowed us to use his artwork as a prompt for poetry.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/dannygregory/

Pieces of the Rainbow

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Sitting in her favourite chair
Her tiny dog on her lap
Persistent stitch and steady hands
She makes masterpieces
Together, they would stretch
Across skies of sadness
Oceans of tears
Mountains of despair
Beautiful colours of comfort
Filling empty hearts
Painful situations
Unquestioned

Because this is about
Unconditional love
This is about a lady whose compassion
Reaches for miles
To grateful smiles that
She may never see
Places she may never be
People she may never know
But they will know of her
As they wrap a piece of the rainbow
Around their tired shoulders
They will know her love

One Gift

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 If I had to choose one gift to give
To every single child
I’d walk, I’d run to find each one
And sit down by their side

My rocking chair would hold them all
My heart would stretch for miles
My arms would wrap around their pain
To find one tiny smile

We’d sail away on twinkle stars
From darkness to the light
The senseless hate this world creates
Would weaken from our flight

A million salty tears, we’d send
To peaceful skies above
If I had to choose one gift to give
The gift I’d choose is love

Breaking Bread Habits

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You sprinkle the flour
Careless chaos across my counter
I want to even it out, but I resist
This is your life now
You knead it

~

Watching you with motherly eyes
I finally see
That everything you are
Did not originate from this kitchen
And I thank God for that
You’ve moved on from
These minds, crumbled and torn
This table set robotically
With knives scraping on Corelle
Just to break the silence

~

You twist and turn this art
Into your own
Scoring precisely as planned
Filling the old loaf pan
With new hope, rustic and pure
This bread will leaven
And my heart will rise

~

Written for dVerse and inspired by Gail’s nurturing poetic prompt using the subject of bread.

My Lighthouse

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You are my lighthouse

Directing me to shore

When I drift carelessly

In my own waves

Signalling me to safety

My lantern, my love

Wrapping me in safe harbors

To sift through sands

For ancient shells

Emptied of lost moments

Until I find the one

Perfectly pierced

Waiting for a chain

And a reason to be worn

 

You are my lighthouse

Illuminating my destiny

Through fog and faint heart

Shining on me

Like I am important

My lantern, my love

And there is not a gale

Or storm that could take me

When I have your light

Your beacons of hope

Guiding me back

To shores of solace

Dreams and castles

Still yet to be built

 

 

Karin Gustafson  at dVerse Poet’s Pub, challenged us to follow through on metaphors.

“Meeting the Bar” at dVerse

 

 

 

 

The Power of Peace

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September 2011 741

 

PEACE isn’t merely a word,

A two fingered gesture

Casually tossed

At passers-by

PEACE enters darkness

To separate innocence

From all that destroys

PEACE is a power

Stronger than evil

But much more intelligent

PEACE doesn’t fight

PEACE uses its words,

Its heart, its mind

PEACE takes its time

To think, to listen, to believe

That we are all the same

And those that hate

Need PEACE to guide them

Not guns in their hands

Or more sorrow in their hearts

PEACE is Love

And LOVE is Peace

Hand in hand

 

 

Please visit

http://artists4peace.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

Snow Angel

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As deep as my heart

That summons strength

To shine beneath the shadows

This cold bed

Will cushion my fall

Bring joy to my soul

Arms will unfold

And with eyes on the sky

I will fly

Weekly Photo Challenge: Horizon

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I will meet you there

Where the earth meets the sky

With a giddy heart

And silly stars in my eyes

We can mambo the meridian

In a sunset masquerade

Poke our fingers in the clouds

Dip our toes in the waves

We will tango in the twilight

On the skyline, we will glide

I’ll meet you there, my love

Until the day I die