Tis the Season

Victoria over at dversepoets.com suggests we write in the poetic form of "Synesthesia". If you have ever given a voice or color to an emotion or thing, this is an opportunity to imagination what you might write and give it a try. Check out what others have written today.















Shavings of sherbet served 

in morning clouds 

play in squinting stained glass 

sail boat skies

Markets below sell wares, fruit

cakes,  freshly brewed art for the soul

Gold leaf ladders lean against

invisible walls as I gleefully 

slide down a long curving chute,

land on polar bear soft,

billowy white drifts of linen, 

scents of pine and tart mulberry _ 

Strings of colored lights adorn each door;

 there stands a thin fiddler playing his lute 

for wars no more

I grab a fir tree swag, swing high above 

on an aerial merry-go-round_

all around town

My hair screams, hints of the midway,

life kaleidoscoping by

There, in a treetop of mint frosting,

I sit with an angel 

at the break of day

Trees bow low in meditation 

as I breeze through them on my way

Heavenly birdsong ties with ribbon

red bows to pin to my heart;

The sea is fully dressed in tinsel

Then with the stealth of a doe,

I weave textures of nature into

holiday mittens, frozen memories

of chunks of coal,

gingerbread images 

of red-cheeked children, 

in tweed hats, cookie size wide-eyed

Holiday bustle meets ancient shamans 

pedalling oils of penitence

"we are all brethren", 

say Myrrh and Frankincense 

And when it snows, 

the bitter taste of foes 

and woes of  yesteryear melt away,

leaving us perched on a mountain 

of purple heather,

overlooking a valley of rugged 

cobblestone where gumdrop

toadstools grow 

and say,"this is home."  

We are all in this together.