"No sight is more provocative of awe than is the night sky."
- Llewelyn Powys
Tonight it seems as if moonlight sings
and stars surround her in nocturnal musings.
Would that I were an angel with feathered wings,
I'd fly to bask within the golden light of her haloed rings
I stood in awe of her without askance
Mesmerized by the sight as if I was in a trance
Agasp of the night's celestial beauty with each glance
I imagined they were enjoying their cotillion with a dance
Suddenly a shooting star took the stage
in a solo ballet, it's swan song earned with age
Brilliantly it gleamed with flames as if it was in a rage
I was breathless watching it glow, then its death to assuage
From shadows, I quietly observed them tonight
watching the heavenly gems shining ever so bright
as the moon glimmered and stars shimmered their light
I was amazed by the magnificence of the breathtaking sight
HOSTAGES TO FORTUNE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Luck—that’s what some call it, a capricious cotillion with probability, eventually holding one hostage to fortune…” quote by the poet
***************
Onlookers watch, brows furrowed with wisdom,
judging the inanity of my gambles, the absurdity of my heart~
the unwise pledge made to destiny and chance.
Is it luck I chase or a deeper current pulling me onward,
a commitment to something unseen~
a surrender to the unknown Hand that guides me?
Consequences sometimes sharp and bitter~
Are they lessons etched in pain or moments of grace,
divinely ordained, the Master shaping my soul?
Were my falls intended all along,
an awkward dance orchestrated by a Divine hand,
making me a willing hostage not to fortune but to faith?
Yes, I am a hostage, bound and gladly surrendered~
a devotee of faith's uncertain embrace.
In my captivity, I find the ultimate freedom.
Q: Who is the current Chief of Staff?
A: The resident President.
Q: What is an old, lame, deaf, half-blind Sherlock Holmes?
A: A defective detective.
Q: Who is the magician who ate all the pasta when no one was looking?
A: The linguini Houdini.
Q: What is a day in the life depiction of the First Family on view in the rotunda of the White House?
A: An Obama diorama.
Q: What is a doctor who operates on a big fish to remove the roe?
A: A sturgeon surgeon.
Q: What disease did the star of "Veep" get from drinking unbottled water when she was in India?
A: Julia Louis-Dreyfus typhus.
Q: What is a debutante dance for snakes, alligators, etc.?
A: A reptilian cotillion.
Q: How do people in third-world countries view America's "open door" policy?
A: As an immigration invitation.
Q: Selfridge's was a fine example of what kind of department store?
A: A Victorian emporium.
Q: Where would you be if you found yourself trapped between this world and another?
A: In dimension suspension.
In the underbelly of the behemoth,
where darkness devours the light,
lies the truth - a macabre cotillion
of vice and virtue, forever swirling,
a maddening waltz of the dualistic kiss.
DANCES ARE SQUARE
There are some dances where different people meet
Exchanging partners enhances the social opportunity
When one glances at another, it makes it all complete
Whether old-fashioned such as the cotillion or quadrille
There’s only one in a million who dances with impunity
As these days, perhaps a civilian or maybe military still
Sword and morris dancing are old and seen as outdated
But as dance steps gradually unfold it does require unity
And bold but ageing onlookers wish they hadn’t waited
Sweet
Primrose
Modestly
Presents herself
At a midwinter
Cotillion, opening
Herself to the enchantment
Of warm Spring's coming arrival.
She calls sisters: Daffodil, Tulip
And shy Buttercup, to come join the dance.
Their fluttering starts in moonlight
When Luna reaches zenith height
She croons as butterflies take flight
Magical night Magical night
I was in awe without askance
Mesmerized as if in a trance
A cotillion of circumstance
Butterflies dance Butterflies dance
On nights when the golden moon sings
They flit in nocturnal musings
What pleasure to me their waltz brings
On velvet wings On velvet wings
What a delightful sight to see
When they whirl with grand revelry
Dancing with such joyful esprit
In front of me In front of me
It's a garden party soiree
Beneath the moon and stars they sway
A charming celestial ballet
Then fly away Then fly away
Dressed to the nines, but with a lethal twist,
her cover blown, enacts her exit plan.
Those lips, a deep vermillion, never missed;
cotillion entrance stops hearts for a span.
A needle in the bracelet at her wrist…
With subterfuge to rival a MacBeth,
a poise belies her young and tender age.
Bare balanced on a blade ‘twixt life and death,
a china doll conceals a tiger caged.
Eyes locked on him, there’s murder on her breath.
She smiles, and with those eyes, the trap is sprung.
Embracing her, the prick is never felt.
Then pressing in, he forces past her tongue;
in mock response, she firmly clasps his belt,
glides to a chair - one down, the night is young.
—————-
for the THREE STANZA POEM IN QUINTAIN (SICILIAN) Poetry Contest
sponsored by Milt Hankins
written on 10/07/22
Dreams are nocturnal flowers, blooming when the sun has strayed far enough that we can see clearly. ~Terri Guillemets
Vermillion raindrops
By the millions
Falling around me
Like a cotillion of lovers
Vying for a favor,
While the insolent villain,
Oft seen in midnight dreams,
Watches from the shadows,
Flashes his deep Castilian smile,
And beguiled I run to him.
For: ''V'' New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
November 16, 2021
Fully Autumn
——————————
A fine, clear creek
Trickling water
Flows long on by,
As Earth presents
Such a festive
Winding valley’s show.
Sun’s rays sigh.
Sprinkling lights shift nigh.
So sooner do feelings rise
To gift
Such a landscape with its due awe;
To sing glee
As Nature calls
Her choirs to harmonize,
Accompanied by
The wistful poems of
Mounds of carmine mums,
Tipping their petite
Petals within each
Wending breeze;
To scatter away worries
By tracing the last flights
Of silver-spotted butterflies,
Aiming skyward through
This autumn’s afternoon.
Transforming trees stand
Splendid in a flutter-falling
Of their leaves — a gracing
By colors
On the fingertips of
The wind — with their lounging sway
— this way then to the other—
As created to be
Life’s November cotillion —
For a dance, and
Then a sylvan space to
Sleep before snow
Covers over all…
Still, unburied, with a promise
Of resilience.
——————————- —-
(c)sally young Eslinger
10/28/2
Thanks be to God
You,
Veiled in the mysteries of light
black cutting off the white
unmasked in the cotillion
of life
no debutanted call
you said left, I was right
patience holding close
an eerie songless night
but the melody played for hours
in the breeze, the gentle tease
and the tide
washing upon the night
in wrinkled sheets
you the nun, I the knight
if only for tonight
I will be with you
in grave and in height
stripping of the shroud
soaring up the stares
abreast
undressed
spotted eyes owl in wonder
halos glow at midnight
transfixed, we merge
and emerge
breathing/gasping/grasping
chocked but contented
fully fulfilled
as air fills your lungs
gorgeous as that may be
Ah, at a magnificent place 'twas
this ball held!
With gorgeous jam debutantes,
arriving one by one.
Sorry you were not there!
To behold the debutantes and
their escorts gliding down the
winding stairs
Such beautiful faces,and all
superbly trained in fine cotillion
graces.
First came Rose Petal and Seville
Orange, a stunning pair!
Then Honeysuckle and Sir Hawthorne,
so stunning they drove the crowd wild.
Next, the gorgeous Pearadise
and Sir Quince, so gorgeous we
all did wince!
Cherry and the famed Knight
Elderberry made all heads turn.
Sparkling Dandelion and Prince
Habanero, so lovely, struck our
hearts like arrows.
The Viennese Waltzes began,
a night so memorable.
We all applauded such gorgeous
couples.
Mesmerized by such grace beyond
finite.
Each couple,bowed and left us "
eventually.
With dreams of next years cotillion,
We all pledged to be!
September 12, 2019
*These are names of actual names
of homemade jams and jellies.
Quaint Inanity.
Sometimes ago I'd thought of the idiosyncratic Shenanigans our politicians employed in declaring their manifesto. They're quite rapscallions.
Exhibiting hoity-toities during their declarations of flapdoodle, they
Tune their cozenage to the rhythm
Of rascality.
And you see kaleidoscopic legs picking
The nimbus of the elfin music.
And they're swayed into cotillion till their Fela* commute to dirge.
18:07:23:18:52
Bent glass danced light from windows over looking vacant playgrounds,
as Mr. Ingersall taught refraction and dispersion.
Rainbows tap-danced walls to chalkboard, brushing equations,
while impish hues soft-shoed solutions chased previously with tears.
From a lackluster world of rummy princes and fermented fairy tales,
the girl's heart tripped fantastic in the cotillion of blithe pigmentation.
The loud sound of deserted classrooms witnessed bewitching glass
sashayed away from the place of clips, red pencils, and unbroken chalk...
and light danced once for her in pentient denouement.
The Last Spike
Helios orb peers cautiously
with guarded optimism
through cracker-slatted clouds
as Thor's divine implement
shatters the morning stillness with the clap of a sonic boom
Mere mortals assigned Herculean tasks
trill a gospel cadence,
their labors heralded as glistening ribbons stretch yon and hither,
a tribute to their genius
and their genesis
Now, as the celestial cotillion materializes
in the ebony overhang
the spinning Mother bids 'Adieu'
as the last rough-hewn iron phallus
penetrates the porus creosote-drenched flesh
with a tempered satisfaction
known only to Gods.........
And those men who will be.
("Hell On Wheels" final episode)
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