Tag Archives: Q44

Greetings from a Distant Sighing Sky

Ah, love.The world’s insane. Wish me a dandelion kite,a storm of ice, a startled star-ling murmured twice. Worrystone this warm butterscotchcandy sun untilthe sweetest edges begin to fray,then build me a bold bright moonto light our way. :: It’s Quadrille … Continue reading

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august and everything after

forgiveness comes injuts and startspieces,parts. and so does fear. here,questions unanswered,truths unsaid,his icy stare. there,a ragged hole in the wall;(not, quite)(not quite, yet)the last straw. just one more(sharp)tiny hole-punchto her heart. It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and I’m hosting. … Continue reading

Posted in dVerse poems, Quadrille | Tagged , , , , , | 26 Comments

night shift

the stars are clocking inagain, twinkled noses setto grindstones. wishingmoments. filing awaythe hours. bathed in shine,we praise the darknessfull of shadowedsecretsand other unquietmatters of the heart. that swollen misfit moon,a work of art. ::I’m late to the party for this … Continue reading

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aubade with a broken smile 

morning breaks us open, and we ponder dragon-breath clouds and all that crimson fire.  we’ve already held these miles between our teeth and found them too salty, too muddled-much for day’s embrace.  the sky’s a quiet place to trace our last good -byes.  ::Linda’s got a great word … Continue reading

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sans 

i am -bic pen, a(r)che-typed in longing, serif soul smithed in mist and storm.  clouds are commas. this world:  a swirled parens awaiting closure, exposure to a lone ellipsis moon. sea-swooned,we would hold these truths, but nobody told us we could be  bold.   ::It’s Quadrille Monday over … Continue reading

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Another Pin-Pricked Sigh Sky 

I can’t think of a better medicine than stars for a ceiling. – Yellowstone  :: Now I lay me down                  (to sleep) my fears my tears the tired trappings of my heart.  A quieting restart,this midnight sky.  My wayward soul to keep,counting         (blessings) clouds as sheep.  Standing still, I … Continue reading

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paprika poem 

spring flings in; we twirl and spin between the limbs and dance our -selves silly. the sky’s addicting.  maybe we’re high on dandelion fluff. maybe we’ve achoo’d our way to sun.  whatever the reason,we’ve decided spicy’s just fine for any scribbledseason.  :: It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and … Continue reading

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of the earth

and all its glories,  our storiesand our songs  the ways we Braille our way to shinein (fallen) followed stars the days we know that all of this is ours, so seize the daze  and whim the wave  and spill our salt.  :: It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and I’m … Continue reading

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When the sun goes down and tomorrow isn’t promised

,  we (bold) blow our breaths loose and wonderwish a way to say   the stilted phrases,scattered phases of our long-lost selves.  we sold our souls for a star,and we’re sorry.  we hold our breaths for a silver-sliver of moon, a shiver of silence.  :: It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and … Continue reading

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Black thrones waiting for finger strikes {Wooing the Muse} 

She’s a wily one-der, all curled up crescent like a soon-hiding moon.  She swoons at sea, sirened only by salt. (But she can barely swim and gets con-fused.)  Eyes closed, we clack. For our own   (sanity) sake, we eat cake.  And are not a-mused.  :: … Continue reading

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