Category Archives: Poetry
Ode to Queen Jessica:
~love has no color, only the heart can see it; in natures prism~
Her birth was inevitable—
orange Lady Bug helicopters on the windowsill,
giggling about the Princess to be born.
The ladybug with hidden wings,
Visits a sunny glass pane,
Then buzzes back on the windowsill
with a slow dance—
and awaits patiently still.
Falls parade has already announced
The coming birth, from the mountains of Virginia
To the rivers of Valley Forge.
The Prince has already been born,
Waiting to cradle her into their upbringing.
Lady bug smiles at the harmless spider,
settling in for the winter,
spinning the legends
of her descendants,
in the center,
of her castle—
Green leaves shush each other,
in the gossip and the celebration
that will take place;
sometimes in loud applause
with the forceful incoming
The sun and the moon are complicit;
getting ready for the seasons fall
—In pageantry and bright colors
before winter candles are lit;
to read by and catch the glow
on the faces by the fireside
and smile with the rewards
of another year, gone by.
the leaves are laughing
giddy all spring and summer
sleep gently tonight
I opened the door at dusk and caught a good size flash
of white fly in ahead of me.
I close the door and I’m still not sure
if it was a big moth or Tinkerbelle…
The plants wave and sway when I sit down among them, often, even without a breeze. At dusk, at that time, they do get a little bold, as their suitors are asleep counting their blessings..
From dandelions, petunias, coleus, other’s that I threw the tag away at planting, and of course, the neighboring wild daisies; we all seem to have a mutual understanding for each other.
As sunset glows, stopping to affirm our relationship, a humming bird stops by and takes a sip of summer’s last flowers. And as a card in the spokes of a bicycle, flies away as loud as a snore.
crickets rejoice night
settling the day gracefully
the leaves flirt with the moon in a summer breeze,
flickering light between trees;
as I remembered our first kiss.
Now, here we sit, in our distance
without romance or adventure.
We sip our home-grown tea.
Flower without sun
Light without darkness of moon
Wilts in self-pity
QUAR Notes: [Haibun Journal]
June 18th 2020 QUAR
Ode to my Coleus and her best friends:
Oh! Coleus of majestic colors of red, yellow, and green, standing tall among the pansies and petunias.
The pine New Hampshire mountains, as a back drop, gives the admirer a reflection in the mind. Colorful fantasies even to the blind.
black and white is stark
rainbows from dark clouds bend light
This time, just before dusk, I’ve noticed, on several occasions, a black butterfly. The only reason I notice it, she flutters around the sunflowers, never touching them, and just as quickly, I notice her whizzing by my ear as she flies away. “Sleep tight” I’ve heard.
Now, what the hell is that all about? As I said my prayers.
Chair in the garden
Flowers or vegetables
Space is required
Desire! The devil in the bottle, the glitter of gold in empty fisted hand, greed, self-adoration, and snorting the frosting on every cake.
Often desires, overwhelms the conscience at the table of our nature. Understanding the argument, in the environment that it presents: our sub-conscious processes the outcome.
Shall we seek the truth
Desires are a bastard
June 6th. 2020
I was kissed by a moth in the headlights
of an oncoming car;
we both flew… out of the way.
June 7th. 2020 (Sunday)
The butterflies were flying around the flowers and blooming blackberry bushes. Fluttering about in scenes of frenzy before they landed on one of them; wings upright and still.
With their bright colors in the noon day sun, they enjoy their nectar for lunch. Then, they flutter away; wings never stopping, across the grass and flirting with the branches of the trees. But, they never go to the top of them, with no such dreams.
nature is alive
productive and on purpose
enjoy who you are
regardless of all my perfections and ignorance, I still seek redemption, in my Sacred nature.
a note to my children:
You were all born with an Angel on your shoulder
Disguised as a small invisible white bird.
Look at you now! All grown up with a smile;
And without a frown, that ultimately always shines,
As bright as the moon clears the clouds.
Who knew how each of you would grow up;
with your mother and I. (in each smile and frown!)
As you were born
Sitting on your shoulder
we heard a white bird
Which our hearts still hear.