Mirage...

                                  






Today we wrote about love and wine -

www.napowrimo.net -
 Poem #11



MIRAGE

From a distance it appears a duo - 
dancing on horizon's line
Storm rains rinsed away oily heat,
leaving a drying mud glaze in time
If  old houses could speak and raindrops sing,
their otherworldly image would give way 
to laughter in the stratosphere
In A sharp major key, they'd waltz
up steps in the clouds sheer
He'd twirl her behind his back,
catch her as she came back to him 
And they would lift a glass of wine 

She's gone now,
 with that golden era gone by,
the Tennessee Waltz now passe'
I hear the banjo player slap his thigh
She was wife,  lover, best friend,
the melody of his soul, 
born from seeds sewn a century ago,
From which glint of the sun 
will she return to sit on my knee?
From what star will she descend,
tap my shoulder, 
make a toast to yesterday
and dance away with me?

Send me a letter,
 written in your fine hand;
tell me you are still mine
Take me down that unearthly road,
where bands of souls 
know their track back -
somehow
...and I do believe
I'll see you again,
drink your red lips of wine -
We'll dance to the Blue Danube
I'll scoop you in my arms,
carry you into the sunset's rain

                                                                                                                                                                                            

On the horizon...

by klr

Water runs clear in the creek bed;

streaming moss grasps its hard pulled roots

Smooth mottled rocks look back at me,

gold tones hit thigh high wading boots

Light plays into stained glass ripples; 

Shades of evening gather and turn 

still pools to aubergine ink wells  

Gone is midday's white brittle fern

And all fools wish to love again; 
when all is said and done and fish 

swim no longer in murky dens, 

but frolic with faces clownish

Rising, flying to halfway heights

between the green sea and blue sky

Lofty hymns, pianissimo -

air and gulls' wings thus carried by

Heard only by the steadfast ear
they recall a sailor's lost joys, 

tribulation's lost salty tears

preserving crimped hearts as alloys

Flutters of wishes unfolding
fragile spirits lift sacredly

and in the throws of leaving cry 

the clouds for birds nigh achingly

Beating still louder, red gold wings, 
flocks of one million butterflies -

What was a lifetime of verses

disappears bidding it's goodbye's

Over at   dversepoets.com   Claudia has invited us to share our version of a mirage or heat wave, a kind of fantasy about real and the unreal...I had this already half written, although it doesn't suggest "hot", just that fine line between our visual and imagined horizons...and will be reading all the other posts tonight after dinner out.