Datura, pale, mute blossom, listens inthe cold, dark purple night, as the moon stays a lost prisoner in towered clouds.She eschews silence; instead yearnsfor dreamed notes in her stone cavern: lost music’s echoed strains of moaned liquid silk and vermillion-scented sins. 2nd on for Linda’s dVerse prompt of “music” for a quadrille
Category: dverse
dVerse Q170 — Song of Spring
Music me with season’snotes, cast bright light streams that alchemize dark, dispel; bringing not leaves butarrivals, fresh green sprung. Butter dandelion mop tops ascend as first bee manna;crocus buds bowl to striped lilac, thawed humus notes tickle my pinked ivory nose. Linda Lee Lyberg is today’s host for dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. Linda says:write a…
dVerse — Prosery — Empty Promise
This year’s a different thing, – I’ll not think of you. — Charlotte Mew, from “I so liked spring” Five years ago: “I swear, they wait until I fall asleep to come in and do their pusher, scavenger, and vampire duties,” you whisper from the rumpled bed. The dark circles under your eyes match the…
dVerse MTB — A City Gutted By War (2nd one)
Lost in War represented in all that rubble the only frontier you have left in tones alternately pleading and hostile laws condemn us to boredom as if the only hope of compensation lay in what was property-lined and speed-limited and zoned scorched and smashed remnants of the past the county letterhead warning them the happiest…
dVerse MTB — Catch a Man Out of the Sky
“The Fall of Icarus” Catch a man out of the sky with a soft and, she feared, insane longing heard snatches of the glassy sound she looked down and saw the snakes drag strength into his body from the universe the church sheltered their ancient nest The man wore a giant yoke language she had…
dVerse Q169 — I Believe
Sculpture of Tinker Bell by Diarmuid Byron O’Connor, photo by Patrick Steele Moon’s zenith casts its limelight on her landing amongst field stubble. In wonder at her tiny flowing form, realize Tinker Bell is not Barrie’s figment, but sprung from stars. She flutters over, chimes, “May I have some hot tea? Space is so very…
dVerse OLN 331 — Nature Speaks
You gaze, your golden eye fringedwith pine lashes; snow cradle angelsframe your grace in a face of blue. You brush a message of “unknown“across grainy crystal canvas thatanswers a question from the soul. You frost the dancing winter willowas its scraggly yellow hair shimmieswith gratitude; “no limbs lost, thanks.“ Your tacit promise of Spring singsin…
Tao Talk 