Still

the  pale blue evening sky inhales

excitement of midnight’s festive air 

orange red banners festoon the house,

brighter  than  the  night’s  starry  glow 

sparklers, blow horns, wine glasses,

sets the clock ticking closer to 12:00

the seconds leap from here  to tomorrow,

binding  our  embrace  checkered  tight

moments like these stitch our arms,
day and night, black and white, sun and moon

flickering  overhead  as   the  countdown  begins,

your lips bend close and savor my red wine lips

ever changing passage of new year’s cheer

still, never changing love on my tongue lingers

.

Happy New Year  !!!!

Posted for:    D'verse Poets Pub : Couplets for the New Year:   And for Poetics:   Endings and Beginnings, hosted by Mark Kerstetter.    

And Romantic Friday Writers:   ties that bind 

Update:   Thank you to Romantic Friday Writers for this award ~

Changing room

I was munching on Christmas cookies,  
when the talented Mama Zen handed the personal challenge baton to me.  
Here is my response to her prompt:
if everything was different  

paint the day in lavender black

burnishing hair in purple night

bold as your lacquered nails,

tip tapping along window's edge 

close your dark crow eyes tight

imagining the room bare of clothes,

mirrors changing faces, and 

polished floor reflecting you, just you

for once

instead of spraying the walls all white

creamy and dazzling for other people, 

rearranging furniture, spotless clean

until you are a pale shadow lamp

that once wanted to burn

both ends of the yellow taper candle,

while replaying the short grainy film of

you, wrapped in your lover's rapture

the first

in black and white frames, 

the yearning in your bosom stirs,

churning your belly’s gut sideways,

you rip away maple leafed wallpaper,  

tilt the domed ceiling closer to Pacific sky,

lie on native bamboo bed, unspooled,

if everything was different, 

i want to live


me       

Author's Note:   Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads :  Personal Challenge.

MZ gave me a wide berth to tackle this challenge.  To help me make it more concrete, I used metaphors, colours and contrasts, tools I have learned over the past months.   

Shared with my wonderful friends at D'verse Poets Pub:   OpenLinkNight - every Tuesday at 3pm EST.   

picture credit:  here

Gift of us

silence of the morning
finds our limbs in restful embrace
i breathe in your warmth
lingering of night's silvery ride

white dawn slowly glimmers
shading corners dusky light
wool blanket wraps tight our
pink memories and purple hued journey

here, now
my pale lips seek your kiss
calming beat of roaring sea
grateful for us

Happy Holidays to all my readers and friends !!!

Posted for Theme Thursday:     Prompt is Gift  
Flash Fiction Friday:   For the G-Man :   Tell a story in 55 words.   

Shared with The Gooseberry Garden:  Forgiveness, Gift, Holiday Songs and Traditions


Thank you to Romantic Friday Writers for selecting me as Featured Writer for my post:

Christmas Star

picture credit:   here

Burning

the day awakens to snowflakes falling

thick socks  and woolen sweaters bury my liking

hockey and curling fun, and snow sleighing

sipping an iced pina colada in my bikini ruby

i'd rather be, sandy beach and sun tanning 

until the winter wind blows by 

Posted for:   D'Verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - every Tuesday at 3pm EST.
Poetry form:   Burns Stanza   - Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.   In this form, Robert Burns makes the first three lines rhyme with the fifth. The fourth and sixth lines become the second rhyming pair.

Also Shared with The Gooseberry Garden:   Prompt is Snow, December, Winter Vacations and Wildness 


picture credit:  here

Christmas star

the winter of content
drapes her thin shoulders
as she prepares their late dinner
sprinkling pepper on casserole
warming kitchen fire, 
she hums a christmas song


the days are shorter now,
folding under bed of snow
slumbering nights envelops
house in mellowed lantern sky
frosted windows peek ceiling of
red bells, cones and festive boughs


paring small potatoes and carrots
she muses on months past,  
when he got his pink slip from
his work, and she too lost her job.
with a sigh, she gathers vegetable
stirring them in the boiling soup.


outside, the cold breeze stings his face.
finding work in the factory has been 
a tasteless mutton on his plate, but mounting 
bills must be paid, so he toils and waits
for the clock to sigh it was time to go.   
gathering thick coat, he trudges his truck 
through the slippery road, a long journey home.  


lighting the advent candles, she rearranges
home baked cookies, cheese, ham and fruits in
season’s platter.   a luxury in these hard times,
but she insisted on a nice dinner, specially 
christmas eve.  her hands linger on the table linen,
as she waits for her husband to arrive home.


the old brick house glitters in purple night
white dust swirling, he opens the front door
shrugging off the day's bitterness from his voice,   
he calls out a hearty greeting, "I'm home."
the aroma of home cooked food welcomes
and warms his ice numbed hands. 


taking off his woolen scarf, he embraces her,
saying, "I have a surprise for you."   


laughing she extends her hands in excitement  


he places a brown box wrapped in red ribbons near
pine decorated tree.   he looks at her, his heart racing


her eyes are shining, radiant bright 
as she peels away paper tissues 
to hold the classic books she always wanted to read.


her long hair is gone, skin pale from
chemo sessions, and frail from weight loss.   
but her fierce spirit radiates, and 
so does hope... fluttering, sparkling in his chest.


she is still the brightest star in his life

Posted for Romantic Friday Writers:   Challenge is Sparkle - Word limit:  400.  
Happy Holidays and thanks for the visit.

Update:   Thank you to Romantic Friday Writers for choosing me as Featured Writer for this post.

This Christmas

this Christmas

draw silk curtains close

blow off the apple scented candles

untie blue velvet ribbons

unwrap all my gifts

whilst the music plays our

favorite holiday songs

bring down the golden star

from pine scented tree, under

red plump berries and evergreen holly

kiss my chocolate dusted lips,  

tinder the chimney hearth    

this Christmas

Posted for Flash Fiction Friday:   Tell a story in 55 words - for the G-man.  Just a fun write from me about the holiday.    Also posted for Poets United:   The Thursday Think Tank:   
Thanks for the visit ~ 

picture credit:  here

Just you and me

The green painted tree is lighted up

Gold and silver trimmings skirted around

Red and blue balls strung in festive dance

Bright greeting cards hanged in the wall

The cone crusted holly placed atop the alcove 

Holiday tunes crooning in the background

The red huge socks by the chimney bricks

Eagerly awaits for your fill of goodies,  

As I did write to you I have been a good girl

I wipe away chocolate crumbles on my chin, 

And traces of milk around my pale lips

My holiday wish list is really short this year

Just you and me, in front of the warm fireplace

I really need to tell you, I have grown up  

Author's Note:   Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - doors open every Tuesday at 3 pm EST.   My saddest Christmas came when my youngest child said she didn't believe in Santa anymore.   Now I am relieved she knows it is the spirit of giving that matters most - and real conversations - the best gifts ~

Thanks for the visit ~

Picture credit:  here

Nostalgia

forget you, i want to
as winter sky curtains my windows


blurring lips, i want to
as spring flowers garnish my garden


fading lines, i want to
as summer ocean warms my feet


smudging mirrors, i want to 
as autumn leaves wither my pathway  


forget you, i still could not  
as winter sky drapes landscape anew 


all our photographs have now
faded into black and white frames,


shadows clinging to wood pine walls,   
wrapped tight in grey still memories, 


regrets, i have none 
though i still hover the window awning 


hoping for a glimpse of your brown cap, 


serene smile, i hope to find  
buried under red ink stains of your letters  



The Gooseberry Garden:   “Photos, Nostalgia, Memories, and Families”,
Poetry Jam:   Past and Future

A peek at the family's album reveals a young solider who went to war and never returned. I am thankful for all those who serve and die for our country.   I hope they can come home and celebrate Christmas with their loved ones.  (I enjoy watching their surprise homecoming and reunion). 

picture credit:  here

Black and blue

the full moon mocks
their bed of black silk flowers 


peach-split lips sigh,
thin patience in her reddish cheeks,


he had insisted his name
to be stitched in her coat sleeves,


even pillows in all the rooms,
their house looking more like his business card 


one fine monday morning, goodbye kiss,
turns to be just that, as he leaves for work


she takes out small luggage, removing 
gold wedding band, and place it atop their album


quilted memories of their years, laugher on edges
bring tears to her eyes; all lies now, 


fabric of unworthiness heavy on 
slender frame, she limps out the door


tired of his rosy promises,
her battered hands start the car, driving   


unknown destination, 
maybe back to her roots, 
  
certain of only one thing: 


her life back in her hands.




Author's Note:   Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Prompt is arrivals and departures and  D'verse Poets Pub:   Poetics, Fabric of our lives


Not my story but someone close to me.  


Picture credit:   here

Shoeless

line drawn across

two squares, you in that spot,

me, on this side corner

with potted plant, small table

grey cubicles of busyness

surrounds us

like deserted islands,    

we toil through

serious business,  

walled hills of anonymity

unopened windows

until, you throw a

paper crane my head

laughing, I chase you 

outside

shoeless

unfettered sky

Posted for Flash Fiction Friday - For the G-Man.    Our office is full of cubicles; sometimes I don't even see my office mates until it is break time or time to go home.  Well, such is life....thanks for the visit ~      

picture credit:  here  

Wild beat

pale moon

bear me down gently

sea bed alight with copper sand

sinking stern

drowning salty spray our lips

wrapping  crescent  hips  arching

deep blue 

                                                                   

fierce sun

lift me up quickly

crimson mountain jutting teal sky

burning bow

as soft lips caress red silk skin

unfurling plump cheeks writhing

wild beat

Author's Note:   Poetry form is cameo, a purely syllabic form consisting of six lines with the following syllable count: 2, 5, 8, 3, 8, 7, 2.  Thanks Kerry, I had fun with this form ~

For the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - OpenLinkNight - Monday
and D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Tuesday  - Hosted by the lovely Natasha Head.


Picture credit:  here

Wonder woman

i am no warrior tiara princess 

hand to hand combat is not my style

no lasso of truth girths my tiny waist

much less, indestructible bracelets,

super human stamina, maybe when

i juggle cooking, cleaning, laundry,

while paying bills, taking care of hearth

i am no wonder woman poster

skimpy ambitions are not for me,

red-knee boots, perfect for shoveling snow

tactical warfare is not my wont,

cunning and confidence, smarter way to be

gifted tongue i save, to whisper words

praise and joy, brave and true voice

the woman of your wonder,

that I strive to be  

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:  Poetics - We're going Comic hosted by Claudia Schoenfeld.


Comic Character:  Wonder Woman
picture credit:   here

Unmeasurable

close my bosom,

i hold you 

a new born star,

one summer eventide 

delicate petal hands,

wrinkled pink pearls

clutch my eager heart,

surely like day and night

weaving, i breathe in

your angelic faith, white 

as dewdrops on moon lilies

and i am humbled by your gift

a mother of beginnings, 

i want to be to you,

like warm river beds  

nuzzling green rice stalks

bluest deep, reddish blooms

my arms will cradle 

for you    

boundless joy  

unmeasurable 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Form for all and Poetry Jam:   Prompt is Deep

 Thank you for the award !

I nominate Steve King.

picture credit: here 

Reality train

                  Doors close

                  Mad rush of commuters

                  Drone of train wheels

                  Listless faces,  

                  Muted headphones,

                  Newspapers screaming 

                  More job cuts  

                  Strange woman's laughter,

                  Bewailings of The End is Coming

                  Not even Christmas ads  

                  Can brighten steel walls

                  Of cold shoulders

                  As reality grips,  

                  I try to remember

                  Your wild honey kiss

                  On my lips

                  Doors open

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads and Flash Fiction Friday :  Tell a Story in 55 words.  For the G-man.  
This post was brought about by my subway ride to Toronto City this morning.   A cold winter day this 1st of December.   


Thanks for the visit.


Picture credit:  here