Tag Archives: Blue

grey balloon set in a painted sky 

Posted on November 27, 2022 by whimsygizmo

:: why don’t you embrace all that blue?  :: Quickly, day 27.

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whatever is true

Posted on June 26, 2020 by whimsygizmo

  she longs to stand beside the ocean feeling significantly small, where the only color that matters ………………….is blue.

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palms, sunday.

Posted on April 5, 2020 by whimsygizmo

I need a moment to deliberate… -Alanis Morissette, ‘Uninvited’   .. our feet are tired, and so we count these things …………(eenie, meenie) on outstretched hands, hoping the sky might have …(miney, mo) answers we cannot find. all that blue … Continue reading →

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blue stone bee

Posted on January 30, 2020 by whimsygizmo

  magnetic poetry 

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Mast (Mask) and Sail

Posted on July 31, 2018 by whimsygizmo

I dreamed I was more than moored, but less than Lake. That the shaking of these limbs (this breeze) was about more than trees (and less than song.) I dreamed I belonged to the sea, and that she gave me … Continue reading →

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run three, to Blue

Posted on July 13, 2017 by whimsygizmo

{miles} from me to You, where (g)race flows free from every rhythmic step. where sky and lakey sea make way for more of You and less of me.

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blue streak

Posted on July 9, 2017 by whimsygizmo

run one (pause) ………….{mile} with a bright blue smile at the end. be -friend the bug you ate; debate the hues of pink and blue and know the stones know things. fling breath and caution and fear to a morning … Continue reading →

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Lapping Blue

Posted on April 11, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. rough as a cat’s tough these lake-sand shores help me pumice my poems.   .. twiglets #19.     

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Lake of the Sky

Posted on April 5, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. When you slip on ……..your cobalt best, …………..I find myself on your shore. There are small kingdoms ……..here, sandcastles of …………..my own small making. Do you see the geese ripple ……..your surface? They etch …………..a new language – I … Continue reading →

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Still Pondering Crows

Posted on March 16, 2017 by whimsygizmo

.. She knows there are other things to pause and poem (the light in that window there, the flapping rooster man on the corner, the whisper of snails) , but she cannot seem to get past the ebony apostrophes of … Continue reading →

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