To William Shakespeare, with love

Let me say that the marriage of true minds
Admit imperfections.   Love isn't absent
Which alters when alterations are needed 
Or bends to retrieve the broken fragments 
O no ! It's an ever-flowing canvas
That redraws the lines with each changing tide
Like roots of the trees that recast with each
Season, twisting with each wind fall & breath   
Seeding like spring with each fading leaf bloom
Sparking colors when it dries like a rose
It is the starlight to every stray dove
The healing balm to a wounding word said- 
And when my love is frail, let yours be firm
That I may behold you, like morning sun-


Inspired by William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116   

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds 
Admit impediments. Love is not love 
Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove: 
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 
That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 
It is the star to every wandering bark, 
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken" 

Today, the 23^rd of April, is the anniversary of William Shakespeare’s birth in 1564, and—52 years later—the anniversary of his death.

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Hosted by my good friend, Susan. 
and D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by my good friend, Brian Miller.

picture from movie:  Shakespeare in Love  

by the sea

the sea ricochets

shell crashing hard against rocks 

like broken arrow  

Reena of Missing Moments

watching the tide
crest, fall unceasingly- i   allow
the past- past   

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Poetry form:  Lune - 3 lines of 3-5-3 words or  5-3-5 syllabic count      
and Poets United 

Working up an appetite

she thinks of breakfast-
turning the pancakes once in the pan, 
firmly golden with melting butter and 
splattered blueberries-     

then coffee, steaming hot  
beside orange juice & heavy maple 
syrup on the small wooden table-

outside, the trees are donning 
aprons, scooping each dew drop,
and prick of warming light-     
eager to rouse from winter's embrace- 

stirring in bedsheets,  
refreshed by her sleep, she runs
her fingers lightly over his still-sleepy frame,
soft in the breathing, firm in the admiration- 

she strikes a match, 
rekindling faith in beginnings,    
with each caress, a bud opens like spring, 
seeking the rain & sky-bursting-joy-  

he loves her hunger in the morning.


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visits ~  I am working hard on my appetite for writing almost every day~
picture credit:   here

On the first day of spring

i kiss you  
on the first day of spring-
as buds unfurl its mighty colors-
as leaves carelessly fling their hats in the wind-
         seizing the joy
         of this moment-
         the riot of bees frolicking -
         the bursting of green, dapper & bold
                -in the garden-   
         bold & dapper, this newness burst, 
         -frolicking, like bees in a riot-
         momentous, is this
         joy. seizing
hats, winded, we fling them carelessly.   leaves, 
of colors mightily unfurl,  like buds
in spring- that day, the first time
you kissed me-

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetry Form:  Palindrome - Not perfect as the mirror poem but fun to do ~  Thanks Gayle ~   

When spring comes

Unlatched,

spring explodes - this:

 - pouring rain, river spell-     

painting a canvas, oiled & dabbed,

breathless-

Unlike

any art frame

-you in me, me in you - 

layered in light, grey & darkness,  

curled tight- 

fisted,   

where the flames lick  

the sheets, we love harder--

bonding -- and this is where language

fails us -

Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit -
Poetry form:   cinquain (2-4-6-8-2 syllables)

Picture credit:   tumbler.com

Flight

           you put this pen

in my hand &  i take flight,

far away from the icy wind-

            somewhere tropical,

the distance calls.  thunders  

            along old & rusty train

tracks,  running parallel 

along the bend, promising  

            our paths will cross at

distant junction.   we pull. 

          

            meeting along the

sea tide, where the sands break  

the rocks into its knees.   we taste

           salt in our faces, our bound-

aries clinging like weeds.   we push.

          hungry for fullness of the 

moon.   you put a knife in my hand.

the horizon & walls slip away.   

          we cling.   like missing

pieces across the white page.        

Posted for:   OpenLinkNight - D'verse Poets Pub - Thanks for the visit ~