A familiar ambiance…she had known this air….
This sand she had felt on her feet before
Ripe red strawberries grew wild somewhere
For, they’d shared them on a quiet shore
Her soul felt stripped…..naked…left bare
A man once whispered love ever more
These eyes of hers had never seen this place
Yet her soul sang of his hands on her face
His fingers once kissed a gentle caress
On her starving mouth that craved his touch
His lips made her an angelic mess
Wild eyed passion…a brush fire crutch
His hands reminisced her summer dress
Love and fear that she could feel so much
Yes, in a sometime, somehow she’d been here
How she missed those distant eyes....so near....
When you stuck your paw out from that shelter cage,
Did you have any idea whose sleeve you clawed?
Did you see a heart you needed to engage?
Was there a sense that I’d see you and applaud?
Was it your intent other pets to upstage?
How could you know I’d love a critter so flawed?
Six toes on one paw, seven on another
For some reason you knew I’d be your mother
I was not searching for a small, gray tabby
But love springs forth when we least expect it to
Born in a barn, scruffy looking, so shabby
My ferile heart you were able to subdue
It mattered not that I was tired and crabby
My feigned, rough exterior you could see through
I wanted a guard dog, surely you knew that
But I ended up with a thirteen-toed cat
One who came to know my lap as her pillow
And oddly had discriminatory taste
I’d have had more use for an armadillo
Possums on a half shell of earthworms make waste
But Katy won my heart with a tail that billowed
While eying tuna with a smirk of distaste
A fur ball she was, but I’ll not forget her
I’ve never known a more devoted lover
*Ottava Rima for Jared's contest on "New Love"
Once upon a time there lived a dancer
Shyama, a concubine of a feudal baron
Had a pretty girl Kanha, also a dancer
Quite excelled in playing of the Veena”s tune
Was mortified being Courtesan’s daughter
Sobbing, came to her mother with a question
Calming her down she pointed to God’s statue
HE is your soul-mate will take you away astute
She took to Lord Pandurangam thus advised
As her lover, owner of body, mind and soul
As the classical musician her she was praised
People came with offers, mother turned down all.
Sultan of Vidarbh by her beauty was charmed
Sent order to send Kanha to his serial
She left town at dawn as she had intimation
Went to Pandharpur temple for inspiration.
She wrote, composed and sang as blessed poet
Data was leaked when a man saw her singing
The Sultan besieged the town and held the priest
Quite engrossed she kept on Veena –playing
Chord broke, song disrupted, the statue split
God came out, carried her, the statue joining
Merged with God, piece of scarf stuck in a gap
Kanha got herself in her eternal lover wrap.
Once upon a time in the fourteen century, at Mangalwedhe ,Maharashtra State,
India, the story has taken place. A temple was built later, in Kanhapatra’s name.
The lucky visitors, who strongly believe in Lord Vithal and his miracles, can see or
assume the tiny piece of cloth, stuck (at the place near the heart) on the Lord’s statue.
Contest: Any poem # 3 6th place win
*Name of a woman
** Kanha means a belle
*** Veena, an Indian musical instrument
****Pandurangam, a name of the Indian God
*****A feudal Lord of Ancient state Vidarbh of India
******Pandharpur name of the town where there is famous temple of the Lord
Contest: The ottowa Rima by Jared Pickett
What I would give to have lived during Your time,
it makes me wonder...would I have believed?
Water into wine, what a moment sublime,
touching your garments, would healing I receive?
Up that sycamore fig, I would also climb
heed Your parables; be at Mt. Olives.
Would I be like Peter, and falter at sea?
Would I fall asleep at Gethsemane?
With each step You took towards Calvary,
after the mocks, scourges and crown of thorns,
under the heat of that sun, where would I be?
I wonder, would I have walked with You, or scorn?
My soul aches, as my heart answers honestly...
I fall on my knees, and ask to be reborn.
Keeping vigil by the Cross, with candles lit,
thankful for Easter—redemption for spirit.
** trying to hit two birds with one (poetic?) stone here, I hope it’s ok :)
** for Linda’s Easter Inspirations contest :) and
nette’s Moment in Another time contest :)
FATE DOES NOT FORGET
She cherished him long after nights had crept
Tracing his shape on byways, on footfalls
Like dangle of lint she could not forget;
Breezes waved a quick adieu, winter drawled
Amidst the rancid trees bared, and yet
Her faraway lover tracked her stroll.
Entranced, they climbed into each other’s eyes
Prompting the moon to act as fate’s ally.
Contest: Picture Perfect, Andrea Dietrich
My weeping eyes behold the changing sky
O'erspread with clouds of grey where once was blue
With gaze upturned, I heave a burdened sigh
At all the world now changed to leaden hue
Yet still they onward, ever onward fly
And more appear to change the sky anew
And now, as troubled hearts their sorrows spill
These maudlin clouds the heavy rain distill
The sun obscured in shame, he hides his face
And lightning lights instead the cheerless gloom
While thunder follows swift in furious chase
As if to herald thoughts of coming doom
And still, the rain descends at hurried pace
As if the earth in water to entomb
It seems belike this storm would rage for aye
And all the earth would never chance to dry
But lo! The setting sun that once was veiled!
Draws nigh to show his grandeur forth below
He shines his beams abroad the clouds to gild
And sparks the drops as diamonds all aglow
Mid pools of sapphire blue the sky is filled
With vibrant coloured shades of heaven's bow
What eye could see and not revive its fire?
Nor mind behold and not its thoughts inspire?
I count my trails along a field of woe
herein, a night rambles on tiers of doom.
Boughs curling their arms; my eyes cast below
upon dull marble stones where sighs are entombed.
I clutch for the moon that guides a wind’s flow;
My dwindling hands brushing leaves uncombed.
Yet prayers for life unmoved from above
As shoulders freeze to find one precious dove.
I enter an arch of disarranged hill
Blinded by darkness; thick the skin of air.
My lips quiver into whispers, until
Feathers so lucent appear from nowhere.
Sweet voice of cherub awakens a thrill
Listening to her psalm of light, sincere.
While fragrance of comfort wafts on flowered breast
Angel of dove wheels far, granting me rest.
Gail Doyle's Whispers Of Light
Welcome in the Fall of life Spring enters
Loves emptied heart replenished with his touch
I become his Muse and he is my center
Lips burning passion captured in his clutch
Shared breath nothing compares to this splendor
Two bodies align in time they are flush
Worn hearts beating young with exhilaration
Once again falling into loves temptation
Contest: New Love
Sponsored by, Jarred Pickett
A Highland Stream
She rises high above the glen, and flows
beneath a rustic bridge that man has made.
She passes stately pines in serried rows
all standing straight, like soldiers on parade
Then winding on through banks where heather grows
and purple mountain thyme abounds in shade
She meets her fate, a river running free
And joins its tumbling rush to greet the sea.
Long shaded walks neath gilded canopies,
as Autumn’s twilight song proclaimed the cold
with words from lips of russet, aired with ease,
entwined with brittle leaves of bronze and gold
in muted tones; a whisper on a breeze,
that breathed of sun-kissed hands she used to hold;
of how an arctic moon upon her crept,
dissolving thoughts of Summer as she slept.
The wind did paint in pearl encrusted hue,
o’er fading hint of fragrant amber glow
with jewelled tears of frosty morning dew;
the pale sun all but chilled the earth below.
Of ashen light, a season born anew
brought wilderness and unrelenting snow
to smother hibernating Autumn spice;
entombed, with just her dreams, in lands of ice.