French Dress 1871 Bell is a portal. Walking through, when I think “bell”I get caught up in pink Frenchsilk with frills, creamy skin,and heady perfume. Another cache’s trigger pulled,I giggle, after nearly fifty years,while watching SNL’s skit,“We need more cowbell!” Kim is today’s host for dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. Kim says:Today I’d like you to take…
Category: quadrille
dVerse — Quadrille 161 — Monster
Tracks tell our tales, bits, clues of worlds, endless intersects, maps through time; fossilized, covered, interred crimes unearthed, stinking, weepy confessions nobody wants to hear. Yet, in ink’s cloy one’s morbid shadow peers, an uncalled lurid alliance never dared spoken for amygdalic animal fear. top image link Merril is today’s host for dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. …
dVerse — Quadrille 160 — to a better place
We fair fringe, found.You invite us to sit,to listen to talesof your faraway, homewhere all are one,where superfluous bodiesare given in serviceto gods like you.Departure day we sitknee to knee, selfless circle,sipping farewell punch. top image: APOD: 2004 October 3 – Comet Hale Bopp and the North America Nebula De Jackson (aka whimsygizmo) is today’s host…
dVerse — Quadrille Monday 159 — Strange
image link I wonder how many times I’ve said, “whatever works”? It must be in the thousands by now. How many times have eyes looked for support for an out-of-the-box fix towards a solution? Why does the weight of cultural expectation shroud and burden every move? [44 words] I’m continuing to listen to lectures by…
dVerse — Monday Quadrille 158 — Morning Shadows
image link Morning’s nature place I seldom see anymore except in flat snapshots, neatly tucked away; pulled out from their cache when it’s time to cry or write poems. Morning’s rally place is one of dreams interrupted, clarion to conform; where one puts on the uniform. Linda Lee Lyberg is today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille…
dVerse — Monday Quadrille — My type
Photo is used with permission by fabulous photographer, Pat, at Chronicles Of An Anglo Swiss. my type blows blue, clouds up, purges skies of subtlety. puffs petrichor into dusty nostrils, quivers stemhairs, stirs windchimes; the type that makes the call still sparks where wyrms enter, their tidings pleased roar Yinglong’s regard embodies fortunes freefalling, pummeling,…
dVerse — Quadrille 155 — Heaven’s Newest Angel
Petrichor cloud balloons bob as the band tunes up; it’s time to celebrate heaven’s newest angel. She’s been orienting for a few weeks and just passed the fit-for-duty quiz. She’s test-flying her wings; landing is expected in five. God always gets the first dance. My mom passed away on June 21. This is what…
Tao Talk 