Thursday, April 30, 2015
Friday, April 24, 2015
That's my advice
for as long as you live.
and sings of things that never were, and that will never be.
I’m smitten with the music that he warbles sweet and clear.
He’s in the treetops high above, and yet he sounds so near;
and if I close my eyes and rest
I feel wings flutter in my chest
and magic places far away in space and time seem near,
like they’re more real than my home, and what’s around me here.
Princes bright and dragons bold fight battles round my bed,
and giant ogres want to grind my bones to make their bread.
Witches cackle, donkeys bray and cats wear leather boots,
Children run through forests, and play tunes on magic flutes.
Then knights and trolls and goats come out to skip across the floor,
and Irish women selling clams clap hands and call for more.
So bears and pigs and wolves join paws and dance ‘round in a ring,
and mermaids swim up to the shore to hear the sirens sing.
Old men grow young, and strong and straight,
whilst black birds argue and debate.
And it does not seem strange to me; I do not feel perplexed.
I shake my head and laugh and wait, to see what happens next.
Then the moon smiles down at me and asks me to come swim.
The stars agree. ”The air is fine,” they say, “so come on in.”
I dip my toe into the sky, and it does feel just right
and so I close my eyes and dive head-long in to the night.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Over in the Imaginary Garden Karin has asked us to write about some aspect of "last" and/or "legs". I really couldn't think of anything, so I did what I usually do in such situations - I went for absurd, gross, adolescent humor. Really, that's all I could come up with, so apologies to Karen and the rest of the toads.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Monday, April 20, 2015
Saturday, April 18, 2015
In the Imaginary Garden we have been asked to use a quote from either Leonard Nimoy or Sir Terry Pratchett as a jumping off point to inspire our writing. I have used a quote from Sir Terry. While I adore his humor and satire I didn't that direction with this. Perhaps another time... RIP to Terry Pratchett and Leonard Nimoy. The the world is a bit bleaker and weaker without you.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
or a proper foundation.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Abhra over at dVerse Poets Pub has asked us to write a letter. Oh, and in case you're wondering, St. Cecilia is the patron saint of poets, writers, muscians and artists in general. And I'll bet you know Bacchus is the Roman god of wine.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
leave your umbrella behind.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Saturday, April 4, 2015
and making love.
considering the nature
of beauty and loss.
Friday, April 3, 2015
I dread the ticking of the clock,
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
This is for day #1 of PAD (Poem a Day) for April, National Poetry Month. I'm linking it to the Imaginary Garden, because "lists" are not what sparks my poetic heart, but poetry is what saves me.