Tag Archives: April PAD 2017

breaking {up with} dawn

Posted on April 25, 2017 by whimsygizmo

… it’s the way the sun cracks her head open on horizon’s skillet, all yolk, and light. a stretch. a yawn. ……………………a sigh.     ..

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love potion number 9

Posted on April 25, 2017 by whimsygizmo

{a magic 9 poem}   .. spell me a love song syllabled in your smile, a place to trace my long -ing, hold my rain. potion me a bright tongue to help me sing your beat. cauldron me a full … Continue reading →

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Longing for Borrowed Light

Posted on April 25, 2017 by whimsygizmo

…then you can swallow it, and it’ll all dissolve, see, and the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair… – George Bailey, It’s a Wonderful Life   .. .. Is it … Continue reading →

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grace graffiti, and the reason why she sings

Posted on April 24, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. :: listen: the birds have hum -bled hallelujahs for another broken dawn. ::

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What Remains

Posted on April 24, 2017 by whimsygizmo

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. – Hebrews 11:1   .. Except that hope just feels like …..w   a   i   t   i   n   g ant- i ci … Continue reading →

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last sip of tangerine bliss

Posted on April 23, 2017 by whimsygizmo

  :: the sun slips low past ocean tongue, and the crimson-stung sea swallows deep. :: .. PAD, day 23. 

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the fall of wise dragons

Posted on April 22, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. rattle and clatter were dragons, two who knew the ways of the world, the kiss of clouds, the slant of sky. one day they decided, just for novelty, to make use of talon, and sinew of thigh, and walk … Continue reading →

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Fumbling Fable

Posted on April 22, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. The tortoise says go slow and steady. Fox says use your head, your wit. Ant says hard work is the deal, Hare says just get on with it. Lion says, befriend a mouse. Wolf says don a sheep. Goose … Continue reading →

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counting sheep

Posted on April 22, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. i drift off, fill a pitcher with small moons in hopes of quenching thirst; thrust my beak forward to sour grape, to thorn. wake only to find you were the wolf ……….. i cried for.   .. a fable (of … Continue reading →

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Book Fallen Open

Posted on April 21, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. I long to spend this day enfolded in your parchment arms, swirled in words and worlds where I have never been. Wish I could dance within your lead -ed rows, dig my toes in to your threaded kernings, yearning … Continue reading →

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