9/09/2016

Hotter Than...



Fall, you'll have to wait

summer isn't letting go

ninety-five degrees




***


Written for Haiku Friday, hosted by LouCeeL


6/13/2016

Crescendo


           The cold silence quivers, swollen with memories,
           Until, with a flash of cymbals and the thunder of drums,
           It shatters, spilling angry notes from the past to
           Rain over me. They cut like ice shards as they hit
           And flood my heart with pain.

***

Written for dVerse Poets Pub where the word of inspiration for a quadrille (a poem of 44 words) is spill.


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6/06/2016

Implication

From the moment he took his seat in the classroom, the geeky guy in the third row gazed at me with rapt attention.  Moon eyes. That's what my mother would have labeled the look he was giving me. To be honest, it made me a little nervous. In my years as a trainer, my poetic words about financial software had never inspired that kind of reaction from a seminar participant. Normally, the challenge was keeping them awake.  At the break, he made his way up to the front of the room. Taking my hand, he introduced himself, and my first thought was, "Oh-oh." Grinning mischievously, he said, “You remind me of my wife.  She’s a teacher too.” Relieved, I smiled in acknowledgment.  And then he went on. “It must be the implied whip.”

intoxicating.
 irresisible power,
a whip flick away





***

5/05/2016

Lost

"Touch me / Remind me who I am. 
~ Stanley Kunitz, Touch Me, 1995


                  I'm lost in the mist, seeking your touch.
                  Are you there? Take my hand and lead me.
                  I can’t find my way with nothing to remind
                  me that you’re close, walking beside me.
                  I hear voices in the fog, but don’t know who
                  they are. Is one of them you, my love? I
                  need to know so I’ll know where I am.


***

Written for dVerse Poet's Pub. Today's prompt calls for a poem in a form called "The Golden Shovel."

According to Writer's Digest, these are the rules for the Golden Shovel:

- Take a line (or lines) from a poem you admire.
- Use each word in the line (or lines) as an end word in your poem.
- Keep the end words in order.
- Give credit to the poet who originally wrote the line (or lines).
- The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the poem that offers the end words.

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5/04/2016

Arroyo Serenade


Our hostess’ little ranch house is surrounded by cactus and the occasional Palo Verde tree. It sits in a fold of parched earth at the edge of an arroyo several miles north of Phoenix. During the monsoon season each June, the arroyo churns with racing waters. But this time of year, it’s dry, serving as a convenient highway for the critters who call the desert home. As we sit around the table on the lantern-lit covered patio at the rear of the house, the desert beyond crashes the party like a noisy dinner guest.
The first tentative note comes from a distance down the arroyo, but is soon answered by another, much closer. Our hostess has just told us that we might be visited by the local javelinas, a wild pig-like animal that frequents the area. Though nearly blind, she says with a laugh, javelinas can smell a grilling sirloin a mile away. But this is no javelina. With each passing minute, another voice is added to the chorus, surrounding us with song. Like a traveling minstrel show, the troop passes through, their music echoing over the desert. I am enchanted.

                       coyote crooners
                       their howls a song of longing
                       filling the darkness

***

Written for dVerse Poet's Pub.

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5/03/2016

Pedernal



                                      He waits, wooing,
                                      Whispering words of
                                      Love and longing.
                                      Paint me, paint me
                                      Purple with passion.
                                      Caress me with
                                      Strokes of seduction.
                                      Make love to me
                                      Again and again, and
                                      I will be yours.


“It’s my private mountain. It belongs to me. God told me if I painted it enough, I could have it.” ~ Georgia O’Keefe


***

Written for dVerse Poet's Pub. The prompt today is "Sentiments of the Southwest." One of my favorite places in the southwest is Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, New Mexico. I am in good company. Georgia O'Keefe fell in love with it too, and settled in Abiquiu after her husband Alfred Stieglitz died. While there, she painted Pedernal over and over until she made it hers. Her ashes are scattered at its base.

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5/02/2016

Lady Lucretia's Lapse



Lady Lucretia was a model of decorum.

But that summer’s eve the minstrel arrived,
Her dignity skipped merrily away,
With prudence and pride at its side.

With petticoats aflounce and feet aflight,
Showing more pantaloon than propriety,
Her ladyship was no lady that night.




***

Written for dVerse Poet's Pub, where Toni serves up "skip" as the prompt for Quadrille Monday. In case you are like me and don't know what a quadrille poem is, it has exactly 44 words.