Moontide

we wax the full moon
silver fruit
then slice it
        petal by petal 
        leaf by leaf as if
hidden in its deepest core-
seeds of pomegranate 

our palms are 
chalices of wild honey
brimming our tongues
with lushness of
         spring 
         blossoming lilacs

the fragrance is heady
dripping with awareness
that spring season is very short-  

and suddenly
between us, 
       night is velvet-apple
       sky is passionate violin 
strumming every kiss to heady brew 
bewitching wings to soar from the whirlwind

through all the rush, swell & ebb
spinning us madly out of orbit
we land  
          here, our safe harbor
          our ocean sand of silence

as we shut our eyes to sleep
we murmur a promise:  
never say 
          goodbye

Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight where I am hosting ~  Come & join us when pub opens starting at 3pm EST ~  This is a belated response to Abhra's Unintended Farewells prompt last Tuesday.

Spring fever

Dab
the  sky
pink, blue, gold-
I  ache  for   green
dazzling leap of morn- 
Fragrance is you, rain-fresh
With the wild song in your eyes
Around us, earth buzzes - wings - life
Kiss, spice me madly  - I   want   to      do
With you what spring does with the cherry trees

“I want
To do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”

― Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

I have been using this quote in my poems for the last 4 years at the height of the spring season so I am carrying my own tradition.  

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Etheree poetry form, hosted by Victoria Slotto ~

Thanks for the visit ~

The sweet season

Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
-Pablo Neruda




the slow trickle of heat, love
is enough to flame the forest, it is
         season for hunger - smell of rosebuds, a
wave of spring green-     a war-
drum beats, our chests throbbing of
passion-        your kisses are lightning
while my lips are ink and
          pink pressing letters on your skin, we're two
voyagers finding the same spiral shell, our bodies
are petals of clover, ruined
by blazing afternoon sun, by
           wild tempest of colors, a 
language our fingers (re)trace, trembling under a single
symphony-        this season is sweetness

Posted for D'verse OpenLink Night, hosted by Gayle 

Poem form is Golden Shovel - where the end word of each line is a quote from one of Pablo Neruda's poem.  Thanks De for the introduction of this form~