Tuesday, February 28, 2017

A Treasure to Keep

  A Treasure to Keep

Somewhere between mountains
palisading -
where rivers
serpentine safely to sea -
I stood once,
on a front porch
Three steps,
pillowed with snow,
down to the yard
-another 50 feet walk
in the whiteness
to the lean-too barn

At age two or three,
I was keen to help
Grandpa milk the cow
from his stool
Crouching down,
I knew what to do
my small hands grabbed,
pulled down, and
squirted warm milk
from speckled udders-


into a tin bucket

I learned about
loving life,
where summers tinkled with flower bells
Unaware of chasms
on the way,
storms that would ensue,
my eyes full of wonder,
eggs, chickens,
scent of hay
dreams yet to dream

"Too deep to walk in", said he.

I said, "B-b-b-but Grandpa...
you can carry me!"

Poetics at the pub today dversepoets.com  dVerse is about a special memento,

Monday, February 27, 2017

Blowing bubbles

dversepoets.com                            Monday Quadrille

Blowing bubbles,
 light and clear,
breeze barely touches them,
lighten me

Smooth stones between
giggling stream,
murmuring trees calm me

Nature's hush,
 sum of moonlight,
bring out
the mystic in me

Content to feel
 the reality
of life -
like a waterfall
over me

Friday, February 17, 2017

Crystal Avalanche

Crystal Avalanche by Barbara Andolsek

Walking into my dream,
 a gigantic white avalanche
spraying outward
I am the volcanic explosion
of a white mountain
Angry, my lungs scream
my chest aches;
impelled to escape the turmoil 
of my existence thus far

Voices scoff and scorn me
to never come back;
forces pluck at me, pull me apart 
like pork, rip my body
into shreds in brutal 
tearing motions,
never to speak to me again
In a flash I am flying freely
fleeing a supremacist's 
no man's land

Riding my kite's tail as it
soars into crystal ice blue sky,
I pass through sunset in a bottle
 of a marmalade mosaic
As I hold on, winds carry me
far above the snow water,
beyond my wildest
expectations to land
softly amidst love's first light

Attracted like magnets
drawn together by similar politics,
we lay semi-naked in white
chenille robes and ruby silk sheets
He is handsome, stable,
half my age, of another race
we are not a disgrace
His arms protective and strong,
his finger soothes as it traces
my face

In an awake state of illusive exultation,
I find love is ALIVE, I Am  ALIVE!!

At dversepoets.com   we are writing with EXPRESSIONISM...expressing art with bold feelings of love, hate, anger, other emotions.


Wednesday, February 8, 2017

A cordial holiday...

Today we are prompted to use drinking words in ways that have nothing to do with the bar scene, alcohol, or drinking.


                          A Cordial Holiday

Sweet Sherry and salty Margarita sailed away
for a cordial holiday.

Leaving Manhattan, they were to meet Jim Beam
and John Collins.
At the port of Madeira, came the dismay.
Stood up...the boys obviously held a double standard.
They saw pink champagne colored reefs,
and cockatiels nesting by day,
They slurped sour lemons, ate melons with chard
They paddled into olive green Kahlua shaded water,
thick mangroves by the black velvet night.

They huddled between the sheets ,
bitter but cooler.
On the fifth day they met Rob and Roy for Irish coffees 
With the high ball of sun above,
Sherry was beciderself.
Margarita licked the salt on her arm.
A dream  fizzled, they sugar coated their error
and set sail for Curacao
in search of  the twisted Merry Widow,
met her at old fashioned Mr. Boston's wake,
partaking of  a blended absinthe milkshake