Tanka

read my letter as
you would pare ripe fruit - juiced
liquid clinging thick
words settle on your tongue - soft
as snowflake, tanged with sugar



~0~0~



moon song - velvety
against swaying maple trees
your face is candle
flicking deep night stars  - amber
against slope of my chest - pinked





Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Tanka, hosted by Kanzensakura.

Thanks for the visit.

Echoes of music

You are the snappy rhythm
my fingers catch, dally & dance


On black & pale ivory keys
Even with no sheets to follow


You are the sun-lit river tides
my rib bones pulse & thrum


You are the flickering rain
on wood & fresh pines my feet sway to


Under verdant sky & billowing clouds
Stringing of noisy grey geese returning


to spring season of maple trees
Open the front door & hear- lilt, verve, cadence-


Never lost, it waits to be found-
This music, & you




The above poem is an edited poem.  Below is the original poem.


You are the rhythm
my fingers catch & play


On black & white keys
Even with no sheets to follow


You are the river tides
my rib bones pulse & thrum


Under verdant sky
Stringing of noisy geese returning


to spring season of maple trees
Open the door & hear the call


Your music was never lost
It was just waiting to be found




Posted for D'verse Poets pub - Hosted by Victoria C. Slotto.  We are asked to edit an old poem and kick it up with sensory details.