Best Savors Poems

"La Voz"

La Noche sin agua --- I spill my loving lips
Dancing, laughing, and celebrating life 
I am his queen, aka' dulce Nina
A night he must not forget 

Lunesta ... Suave ...
He savors every moment;
Then questions my capabilities 
Suddenly I feel like a refugee in my...

Continue reading...

 In the valley 
    of violin vines,
    when the saffron sun ascends,
and crooning clouds 
   drift in mulberry cadence, 
I let my quivering quill harmonize
mystical moonbeams 
splattered across 
  hushed horizons~
with sparkling strings 
 ...

Continue reading...

I’ll not be the mask of your madness
I’ll not be the whip of your demands
I’ll not be the drug of your habit
I’ll not be the dough in your hands

I’ll not be the doll that’s your play thing
I’ll not be the container of your need
I’ll not...

Continue reading...

Seasons

With a chill still in the wind, spring arrives
Clutching her white coat that slowly melts
In Sun's warmth, coaxing blossom's birth.

Humidity heavy with the scent of Jasmine
Announces summer's steamy footsteps
As ripe strawberries share sweet savors.

A harvest moon greets lovely autumn, smiling,
When her frosty breath changes verdant...

Continue reading...

Youth, Time, Night Sky And Heaven's Blessed Voice

As I lay me down in lush verdant grass
Gazing into night sky as Heavens pass
Twinkling stars, to an old grievous soul speak
"Be of stout heart, not a mortal so weak"!

Heavens voice advice, if ones heart listens
Gleaming as true...

Continue reading...

An oddly-shaped Thanksgiving bird:
   quirky 
   turkey

What we call Grandma's mashed potatoes:
   dreamy 
   creamy

How she adds volume to the main side dish:
   fluffing
   stuffing

What I always do first:
   eat Gram's...

Continue reading...

Rhythmic creaks and gentle squeaks

from the withered old wooden rocking chair

fill the sweltering late summer afternoon air

a peaceful breeze blows across his tepid brow

the old man begins to weep

as he thinks of his wife inside

Drips and drops and a little splash

fall down into the half-full...

Continue reading...

She sat there waiting, patiently,
Assured of her success,
Indifferent to the certainty 
That she would cause duress.

She'd spun a trap so beautiful
It seemed a work of art,
Its gossamer perfection
Like the poison in a dart.

My bird's eye view allotted me
A close-up of the scene,
The window pane the...

Continue reading...

Rosy red, his cheeks said
As good cheer he spread
Laughter, like a merry kiss
Touched hearts with bliss

Fish in every variety caught
Delicious nutrition he brought
So that every mouth watered
For the delicacies he slaughtered

Rosy red, his cheeks burned
With joy we never learned
His smile, catching as a cold
Reminded his...

Continue reading...

Crimson, cerise, scarlet, and vermilion leaves
die as Summer grieves.

Without pity, brisk breezes denude the trees,
voiding guarantees.

Nature savors the essence of Fall's decay;
a mushroom gourmet.

Mother Earth prepares to spin Winter’s death shroud,
no tears are allowed.

Crimson, cerise, scarlet, and vermilion leaves
disappear like thieves,
and Autumn aggrieves....

Continue reading...

 I  remember  Cupid’s scent when December stars sailed,  
above vast seas of scars rippling with past mistakes,  
awaiting the euphonious moon to croon and tune melodies veiled.  

But will the skies in blues be the muse, casting dews of...

Continue reading...

When falsehood is tasted as sweet, 
         the truth always savors as bitter....

Continue reading...

"People expect all stories of abuse 
to be loud and angry 
but they're not. 
Sometimes they're quiet and cruel
and swept under the rug."  ~ Trista Mateer

When the sky sips wild thyme,
and the sun savors swells of zenith,
       like...

Continue reading...

Autumn Yawns

Autumn yawns – early darkness stunts her days
Eventide wrapped in golden umber tones
Bands of autumn hues swaddle mellow haze
Sunset sundrops sweet serenades intone.

Twilight dozes ‘neath the harvest’s birthstone
Autumn savors new frost in early dusk
Scarlet scents,  aphrodisiac cologne,
Festoon icy crystals - autumnal musk.

Vesper rondeaus...

Continue reading...

Walls breathe insistent hunger,
red as the inside of a split pomegranate,
richer still where the tallow has melted,
slick as the fat from a burnt offering. 

Scarpia does not eat.
He savors—sounds of gristle 
snapping in the next room—
—low, wet gasps—
body writhing beneath unseen hands,
a melody of muscle...

Continue reading...