Now – poem for dVerse

Use the good china
let your hands linger
on the smooth, cool curves
of each translucent cup

light those candles
wear your prettiest dress
set the table with the silverware
the fragile glasses
you’ve been treasuring
don’t let your pleasures
gather dust

A quadrille for Merrill – the word tonight is “set”. Set off for the dVerse bar, poetry on tap…

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Heat death – poem for dVerse

The extinction
of the last light
will leave us
alone
afraid
in the dark

we blew out each candle
each flame
each lamp
and now we reach out

fingers touching
tip to tip
and we whisper our fear
in the cold
and endless night

Quadrille night rolls round again. Linda is behind the dVerse bar tonight, asking us for 44 -word poems including the word “extinction”.

Blackbird – quadrille for dVerse

My boy has always been a thief –
well, not a thief exactly,
more like a blackbird – fingers always there
nicking a slice of apple or a crumb of cheese

bright eyes, cocked head, and then away

knowing the first thing stolen was

my heart

Another quadrille for De at dVerse. As De says, you can use “nick” to mean “steal” or “pinch”. It can mean “arrest”, too, so you can be nicked for nicking something. Love that.

Sun in July- quadrille for dVerse

Gobstopper sun
rolling sticky down the sky
hot lemon

wayside sprinkled – tiny suns –
piss-scald suns –
tooth-leafed, bright-maned

and the light too heavy
to move quickly
just honey sticky smear
slowly spilling
under the door
through every crack
can’t keep it out

A quadrille for dVerse – our word tonight is “sun”, and a quadrille is a poem of 44 words, including the prompt word. Grace is hosting tonight.

Guess what I saw this morning? – poem for dVerse.

There was a dragon
in the valley, curled
like a white cat:
each scale a pearl;
each breath a cloud
of soft white silk –
’til the whole valley
was a bowl of milk –
as the sun brightens
with the coming day,
such dragons fade.

De – the wonderful WhimsyGizmo – is hosting at dVerse tonight, and here be dragons. Our quadrilles are infested with the pesky things…

On the richness of the good earth – quadrille for dVerse II

Here the soil

is rich red,

rust red, blood –

so that where

the turf is torn away

it bleeds

like peeled flesh,

and each white flint

a shard of white bone

and that green grass

and those flowers

a veil of decency

over that nakedness.

The second quadrille of the night for me. The word is rich, the rule is 44 words, the host is Kim, and the prompt is up on dVerse.

Rich – quadrille for dVerse I

“That’s rich,” she mutters, “That’s rich” –

brooding on grievance, like a fat hen.

“That’s rich”, and switches off the telly,

folds the paper, lets the curtain drop.

All that richness sours her,

curdles her stomach, carves deep lines.

It doesn’t nourish her.

It’s quadrille night, 44 words, one of which is the prompt word. Tonight Kim is our dVerse host, and our word is “rich”. Lovely.