November Moon

November Moon



I watch the ins and outs of sandy bays
and rock coves, 
wade the shallow water of the Salish Sea,

Illuminated by the November moon.
Every breath I take, step I take,
prepares me for life without sun and water
untiI finally, I can let it be.

The Earth is the apple of our eye,
deserves so much more than we
seem able to give.
I wish my pet flavors, colors, 
favorites of everything
the will to survive, to live.
This isn’t how it was meant to be,
the pulsing globe is a mortal being.

In the garden of my all days, 
bees never sting,

The sound of surf, the eagle’s wings,

the changing driftwood winds,

the November moon, all

take the pain from my swollen heart,
tend to the swelling
in my feet.

As I re-read letters he wrote from the war

I wish I were a doctor of pure magic.

I'd string a necklace of sweet words

and tiny seashells,
scented with Plumeria.

to place around his neck,

as a blessing,

for all I learned from him.

We would ride Pegasus on

Intergalactic winds

Lady in the blue dress...

Today we are writing poems emphasizing bold metaphors without using words "like" and "as" that would weaken the form  @ dversepoets.com   Thank you, Claudia, for your intro.

                                                                         

From the pitch black night sea,
one can see her shrouded head
She keeps the lamp burning
ever since the last storm,
Sheltered by a spit,
driftwood and waving grass,
she was born in 1883,
then moved to her present location
in 1903, before the war
A wall of layered stones
leads to her high waisted
petticoat form
She waits another day in vain,
dedicated to the search
for brave men
Her white Fresnel eye blinks
remembering the disaster
that happened;
she had withstood the hurricane
Gigantic white waves sprayed against her,
took over her favorite sunny place
Wind howled and blew,
so menacingly
she clung tightly
to her foundation's spiral staircase

She has spent years keeping watch -
focused on the beaches still
and the soft lapping waves,
Often glimpsed moving
between night shadows,
in the tower an apparition
appears - when
old mirrors refract the light
of the moon and stars
and if you listen carefully -
you can hear her cries
in whispers at night

By day,
The Lady in the Blue Dress
looks down on the grassy hill -
where children climb the big Sequoia
tree overlooking
the sparkling aquamarine sea
A stray cat her only company,
the Lady in the Blue Dress -
mistress of Admiralty

Over the years many women have been keepers of lighthouses....some are haunted they say..in this poem there is a symbiotic relationship between the woman and the lighthouse itself a woman.