Into the Woods...

dversepoets.com

Nature is our subject today as we explore from the perspective of something in nature giving giving it a voice.

                         
Walking in the woods,
I came upon a scene, laid
bare for only me
to see, platinum moon beams
cast into forest's deep sleep,
a spotlight spilling
into mysteries

unexplored

Disturbing ancient charred tree
trunks, fallen trees, imposing
on the privacy
of a rare mushroom fungus,
heretofore unseen
Secrets kept among
old lichen and moss;
muskrats, owls and deer
camouflaged in shades of green 

and grey, newly awakened,
naked and still

Aware of specters
in the glowing grotto clearing,
I might never be the same, 
where likely no human stood 
before, a unicorn's resting place

I love a moonlight sonata,
moonshining on my face

Inside my paper boat ...

In circles I turn 

without practical training, 

backing into a lake's primitive bank -

stern side stronger 

than starboard right, 

dipping alternately, 

finding rhythm

Stillness settles, 

slipping o'er 

untroubled liquid mirrors, 

where ripples cease to repeat,

announcing pristine solitude

A distant hushed crystal splash 

reveals a rainbow's tail, 

free from hook, line, sinker

My boat meets 
no resistance

Tall wispy grasses 

give clues to movements 

mimed in life's underbrush

Ripening blackberries adorn

the roundness of it all, 

where tiny streams replenish 

dreams in my soul

Under my woven hat,

shading my face and red lips 

healing from sun ultraviolet 

With clarity of vision 

unknown before, 

I slip into an exquisite 

peaceful nap, floating                   

 For dversepoets.com Karin invites us to write about a trip..any kind of trip..

Dining with Kate...

The long private driveway to the gate
met a green sign that read  "Welcome to Fenwick"
Me, myself... I... had been invited to dine with Kate
Opening the door with a deep bow,                                                    
she greeted me with "Hello, welcome to
Old Saybrook", directing me to a seat.
"Here, my dear, you have a lovely view of the water."
I was in awe of her presence
and wondered who else I might meet
of the famous and elite
My knees felt weak..

Cocktails and hors'd ourves,
open spaces
filling now with conversation,
playful banter among guests
even harmless practical jokes..
She loved puzzles
and games and a good book
Spencer stood smiling near the piano..
Soul mates...but she never married him..
..chances he would divorce his
catholic wife, slim
Lauren Bacall and Peter O'Toole
conferred while her brother
 mingled with minor leading ladies..
I spotted Paul and Joanne

"Little Women" ushered her to fame
 George Cukor's protoge'..
he discovered she was compelling
in strong women's roles
able to portray
them as romantic, athletic
vulnerable, or austere
She won four Academy Awards
in her long career
Her head shook and hands trembled..
the onset of Parkinson's occurred
while filming with
a young Sidney Poitier..

We spoke of her childhood memories..
her doctor father and mother,
leader of women's rights
I told her my favorite movies...
Philadelphia Story
with Cary Grant
and Jimmy Stewart
and Woman of the Year..
of course there was the comedy
with the leopard named Baby
I asked what were her best and
worst moments..
She said she loved acting with Bogey..
but she was allergic
to the African cedar tree!

She made me feel at ease that night...
and said we could later all go for a swim
After a good night's sleep in the
cozy guest room,
the housekeeper served us
tea with toast and jam                                                                                                            Fenwick
where we chatted in the library
She wore her signature turtleneck
slacks and long sleeved jacket shirt
her hair in a bun, sensible,
independent, could stand her ground
in a fight

Then she grabbed my shoulders
with both hands....giving them a shake...
"Do come again, dear"..
kissing me on the cheek...waving her arm high.
and said "Goodbye"..



                                                                                           

At dversepoets.com       today Claudia asks us to write a poem about a hypothetical  conversation or meeting with a well known or historical person; all are extremely interesting if you want to take  look.                                                                                                                                                                    

My original poem disappeared so this is a second write, without a lot of the rhyme I had in the other one, trying to remember what I wrote, but it's the wee hours,  so it's more sloppy than the first one ...;;)

Light flickers..power outage..

It's poetic day at dversepoets.com and Karen is hosting;  the subject is fitting 

for Groundhog's  Day, shadow and light, and to take it wherever we want to go, suggesting examples in fine art and literature..this was fresh in my mind;  I will never write like Lorca and my art history knowledge is confined..I can only admire and respect their work.  So free form (no form) it is...;)
.....there was a power outage at an interesting moment during the movie I was watching...I tried to recapture later what I remembered..

                                                                                                                                       the dreyfus affair

lamplight flickering..flicker..flick"...tv interrupted..sputters..

"it involves our foreign policy".. off - on - "secret document"..

- off - on "Treason, Colonel Peacock!"  Darn..wanted to watch that movie!

Oh well...dark house...how long?  resigned myself to bed early..the covers
felt needed...welcoming...I lit 3 candles to read by;

lap top not charged_

dark in all directions outside in neighborhood...recalling days when it was fun to play in the dark..
too tired to wait for lights to come back on...but, caution....

do not fall asleep with candles burning...shwoosh, shwish, whoo!

now,  pleasantly peaceful

only stimuli purr of cat next to me                                                                                                                              

the heating pad? .no electicity.. substitute for intimacy off, but...                                              

restorative rest is what I must have ordered subconciously..

and didn't know it....I'm out like the lights.........1 hour later...blinking digital lights..
blue..led's
penetrate  my eyelids..                                                                                                                                                                                              "save the army"...."and..save France!!!"                                                                                                                     

TV audible from other room...

'Ahh....turning over slowly...stretch..all lights are on..

23:00..time to turn them off again..walking through house..switching off...

"you are hearby sentenced to life imprisonment and 300 francs fine.."....loud>>>>>>>>
lower<<<<<<<<;just right..how much did I miss?

{{{{{((())))))))))))))}}}"THERE ARE TIMES WHEN IT IS MORE COURAGEOUS 

TO BE COWARDLY!!"..adjust volume..."knighted to Legion of Honor .. a brave soul..EMILE ZOLA!...the conscious of man...thousands are safe and sound asleep under their roofs in Paris..."  -- turn TV off..dark again...the light and dark of history...myself, a wee bit more enlightened..