October Feathers II – Beverly Dyer

Four feathers cut like quills
to scribble the moon
out of the sky

to scratch
scratch
scratch

and one so small
I can hardly hold it
between my finger and my thumb

two feathers
curved like blades
to slice the wind

and three as smooth
as paper

and one so small
it floats away
on the words I whisper

one feather
like a sunrise
pink with hope
like a freshly ironed blouse
on the bus into town

and one striped like
a tiger prowling
through the lily pads
of the polystyrene jungle

and one dotted
like a widow’s veil

and one that speaks
only to me

shhh

Mish is hosting at dVerse tonight. She’s introduced us to Beverly Dyer, and asked us to choose one of her gorgeous paintings to inspire our verse tonight. I chose a painting of feathers – so tactile, so enigmatic.

Over the green edge

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Come away, then,
come with me,
over the green hedge
into the mystery –

there are beaches there
of shimmering pearls,
gathered each day
by smoke-eyed girls

and a woman who’ll
weave you a golden gown
of graveyard lichen
and thistledown;

there’s a castle built
of sunset clouds,
where the music is fast,
and sweet, and loud,

and you can dance there
all night, all day,
’til you dance your
childhood dreams away –

there are market stalls
selling bags of stars,
and berries that taste
like chocolate bars,

and horses as blue
as distant mist
who’ll ride you away
for a silver kiss

and you won’t come back
the same as you are,
for the world is big,
and the sky is far –

so come away now,
come with me,
over the green edge
into infinity.

I’m hosting at dVerse tonight, and I’m showcasing the art of Mary Frances. This poem is written for one of her tiny, found landscapes. You can see more on Twitter at @maryfrancesness, and the dVerse post will give you more links to see more of her wonderful work.