Some flowers bloom well into twilight,
moonlight mesmerizes them,
leads them into dreams of distant dawns.
The velvet drapes of summer
do not offend them,
rather they entice
as they bathe
within deeply tidal lullabies.
Gently the blossoms succumb,
gentle is the soft enfolding.
A warmed and darkening air descends
to couple with the intimate scents
of floral favors, perfumes that linger
upon wafts of intimacy.
all hidden by sequestering shadows,
an efflorescence is shared
within a sanctuary of confidential pleasures,
raptures far from
the harsh dazzle of daylights
prying gaze.
It's a winter wonderland
pure, pristine, clean,
cleansed of the darkness
given to the transition of the light
release from the cold blackness of night.
The morning sun rise glistens
reflective rays listening
winds blowing off the cotton ivory coverlets
from every bouncing branch
within the chill of winter's first dance.
Snug and warm within closed doors
safe, protected in the confines of these walls
the season echoes a recurring call,
of peace, goodwill, promised hope
from the gifts of Heaven's host.
A celebration of life living from sacrifice
the heart fires begin to ignite
decorating trees, ornaments and lights
for recollected finds
in memorialized Christmas time.
Two thousand years dusting the centuries
of the Christ child's entry
his birth along the once desolate earth
renewing hope, joy, promises and love
gifts from our Creator above
it's the bounty and gratitude
revealed in
the first snow
reminder of where
we have been..
One hundred eighty one days ago today,
Jews began their day, as usual in every way.
Jumped out of their beds and prayers. were said.
They dressed and fixed coverlets on their beds.
Mothers cooking breakfeast…but not for very long.
As killers with bullets ended their morning songs.
Safe Rooms were to be a place to run and hide,
But many were killed instantly in this crimson tide.
These people, living in peace and loving harmony,
Were slaughtered,not significant enough for poetry?
Their older children at the Nova concert for peace,
Met death at dawn or were taken hostages, like sheep.
And while we get our trophies and POTDs’
Jews and Americans still hostages, are important to me.
1,200, savagely killed, the morning of October Seventh.
By methods, so heinous, and were dispatched to heaven!
The sadness, has never left my Noahide, weeping soul.
But to have others, never forget,is a significant life’s goal.
This was a horrid, bloody, pogrom in my very own lifetime..
And loss as horrid as this, is to be remembered is soulful rhyme.
4/7/2024
Some flower in the twilight,
the dark does not assault them
they succumb upon a dusky breath.
How unlike is the glaring light?
How it enslaves and pinions
each stem with a fiery eye.
Love mesmerized
yearns for the dark coverlets,
the secrecy of eventides.
Those brief nocturnal shallows
can hide a sorrow,
make you smile like the last rays
of a dying sun.
Sometimes when I am lonely, by myself
I look through the volumes on the shelf,
And try to find gems hidden in the pages
Treasures of truth written by wise sages,
Sometimes I laugh, and sometimes I cry
Single thoughts can evoke a winsome sigh,
Books, long wonderful and trusted friends
Ofttimes my transparent heart transcends,
As I re-read many stories I had forgotten
Of tragic romances and deeds misbegotten,
I lose myself in quilted coverlets of time
Reading is, for me, the epitome of sublime.
Written April 6, 2022
My wishes are for Earth beings to quiet
and hear the whispers of a star-filled night.
Listen to snowflakes as they gently fall
Hear the music of a winter bird's call.
Breathe in soft quietness, so our souls may heal
Know that what's before us is what is real.
Bask in the warmth of tangerine sunsets,
and silver moon wearing star coverlets.
Relish the trees, blossoms waiting to grow,
be grateful for each morning's sunrise show.
Cherish our families and those we hold dear
Let all unkind words fall on our deaf ear.
Let happiness find its everyday place.
Accept others' love as we accept grace.
Help those crying, give them true joy to feel
When enough wish these things, they will be real.
December 3, 2021
Moss on the shaded ledge
spreads across the rooftop of the shed
gluing shut the shingles edge,
sun reflects the spurt
lemon yellows, lime green patchworks
gathered quilted coverlets of quirk;
willow limpets sweep away
residue of broken branch leaflets braised
browned and burnt by summer heated light rays;
suddenly the day becomes night torn
shadowu images stepping walkings formed
beneath the cloudy sky dark swarms,
hurricane gusts race then stop
wild and free tempests pops
sprawling in between every treetop,
earth below the storm
cools briefly from the chilly warm
and at last, breathe in the lulling calm.
Awakening
Came awake.
Silent stygian darkness,
Lit only by the pale, yellow night light far down the hallway
And the harsh stark whiteness of the beside alarm dial.
The stuttering staccato of beats seeming to shake the chest where they live,
Single, sometimes paired-waiting for their entrance to overwhelm what is there.
The rigor is mild but unmistakable felt under the coverlets
As you try with your feet to unravel the layers for more warmth and cover.
The world turns slowly at night within the confines of your space,
Protected from without, but not from within, where the fever lives.
Some flowers bloom well into twilight,
the dark does not assault them
it folds gently, it entices,
it allows flowers to succumb
but for a little while.
How unlike is the glaring light?
How it enslaves and pinions
each reaching stem
and then killing with a fiery eye,
while the desires of the night
shine as bright for all beings.
We who stand mesmerized by daylight,
do we not yearn for the coverlets of darkness,
the secrecy of sequestering shadows?
Those brief nocturnal depths
that bloom in the unseen,
our sanctuary of pleasures
far from the dazzle of lights shallow show.
Just two doves,
with two dove-lets;
tiny hatchlings,
in feathered coverlets.
Just two doves,
turned into four;
a tiny family,
that I adore.
Just two doves,
and their kin;
how I want to
invite them in.
Just two doves,
with little ones.
Just four doves,
sitting in the sun.
Just four doves,
in matching feathers.
Just two fledglings
flying hither and thither.
Just two doves,
in an empty nest;
All the fledglings,
in flight at last.
Hats are such a marvel,
when the weather is so garbled,
A multitude of quick coverlets to warm the brain
protect the head from snow, wind and rain.
A dapper, flamboyant chapeau
to quickly dawn where ever you might go,
A fedora brandished by some handsome man
that would display his appealing stand.
A stetson for the guy from Texas
who stands tall before the rest of us.
A tam, a topper
a Panama show stopper.
Some pretty little girl in a bonnet
that inspires a Shakespearean sonnet.
Better yet, a woman's choice of millinery
to walk a fashion show off fritillary.
To church or same gandiose Easter parade
that gleams and stands above the seasonal charade.
Hats are such a blessing
when the cold requires warm protective dressing.
The prediction is for gusty winds and cold,
hats need only be warm not necessarily bold.
Take your pick
but make it quick
your nose, your face, your head
need covering, that goes unsaid.
as temperatures drop
Wearing coverlets of haze, are the summers we remember,
when barefoot toes touched fragrant grass, that wilted in September
............................
Gossamer
morning mist
vanishes
Ancient sun
shimmering
welcoming
Filigree
embellished
aurora
Chantilly
laced silence
awakens
Crystalline
dew sweetened
surprises
Meadowlark's
exquisite
melody
Delicate
violet
carnival
Pomander
lavender
fragrances
Soft velvet
Mossy wet
coverlets
Green clover
slipper soft
carpeting
Catharsis
of the soul
transcending
_________________________________
Inspired by the "Ellip" Contest...sponsored by Gigno
Memories -
Laughter explodes, runs riot
children huddled beneath sheets,
heads lost in wonderland of white.
Grown-ups with whispered words
wait, breath held tight,
at top of the stairs, passed mid-night.
Eyes closed, flushed cheeks,
presents laid at silent feet,
on coverlets bathed by moonlight.
All quiet, all through the night, until
morning brings Christmas Day’s delight.
Walking, talking and skipping stones by the shoals
Caress, hug me tender while shining bold eyes
Sparkle, playful promises until fall fades
Sensibility flew
Example: Red cheeked boyfriends tenderly kiss me sweet mouthed
under Boulder coverlets winter springtime
hug me naked laughing & telling girl friends
gossip til autumn
Translated
RED cheeked BOY/friends TEN/der/ly KISS me SWEET mouthed
UN/der BOUL/der COV/er/lets WIN/ter SPRING/time
HUG me NA/ked LAUGH/ing and TELL/ing GIRL friends
GOS/sip til AU/tumn
Sub Categories
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