Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo 2017

In the Beginning was the Word.

.. In the beginning was the ………………………….word.   .. .. And the poet’s heart did swell, and quill her soul a quiet song. Longing to etch is somewhere safe, she confessed her need to the moon, who loaned her a … Continue reading

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Newton’s law of everything under this broken sun.

  Whisperwhy me something falling. Some taotruth of trees. Some breeze-bled moment(h)um. Brizzle me a skysong, a shambled shunthing I can keep in my most wordled pockets. The world’s gone mad and moonly, love, all warticked and wombled. We must … Continue reading

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Nocturne in c sharp.

.. I am the night. The smudge of sky that means you can soon close your eyes and breathe deep of stars. I’ve pinned a moon just so so that you’ll know the world will still be here when you … Continue reading

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From the Desk of Pan

{Greetings from Neverland}   .. To whom it may conspire, We are all in need of mothers, very badly. Please send lull -abies, bedtime stories, chicken soup. All we got left’s the croup, a noisy angry fairy and a Captain … Continue reading

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Mother Moon Takes a Coffee Break

  .. You’re waning again, oh, half-done moon, half-won moon. Straining again to borrow enough light sorrow enough flight to take a larger bite of this broken sky, this tokened why. You take it black with a milky way pour, … Continue reading

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Siren

… She saunters through salt and haunted sea, longs to be -long in some semblance of sorrow-swallowed ’morrow moon song.   .. Prompted by NaPoWriMo day 12, in which we play with alliteration and assonance.     

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Her Hands

.. See them there? The way they hold and mold and fold to pray? The way her arms (so wide) can heal? The way her fingers (long and lean) might play those keys, might just be the thing that soothes … Continue reading

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Nine Ways to Woo the Moon

{a Magic 9 poem} .. Catch her in a mason jar (be sure to crack the lid). Swallow her with fallen stars. Wish her well, then smile. Fling her from your fingers, far. Pin her to your left lapel. Pen … Continue reading

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The Unpredictability of Fountains

Find a penny, pick it up. All day long you’ll have good luck. …………………………………………………………………– old adage   … We cast our coins (our lots, our stones, our crowns) to water no one’s walked upon. We lose ourselves in weathered skin, … Continue reading

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seeing stars

  i. the sky’s an ebony construction paper sonnet, pin-pricked through with prayers. ii. loose moths mirroring the moon’s gregarious glow. iii. an infinity of unspent wishes. iv. a connect-the-dots game craving chalk. v. a freckle-pocked pathway going somewhere soon. … Continue reading

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