Daystars Poems | Examples


Premium Member Marina Melody Memories

                   



              San Francisco Jazz Afternoons





Carries me back to those special Sunday afternoons with you.
The striped awning Jazz cafe, our very unique,ibeloved rendezvous.


The smell of the glorious, scents of the Pacific Ocean,
Those brown flirtatious huge eyes,lashes, my West Coast sensation!

My diamond engagement ring glittered like rainbow butterfly wings.
Memories of Coltrane, Davis, music that made you my heart laugh and sing.

San Francisco, always the beguiling, mystical jewel of my heart. 
Everyday people who loved peace,jazz music, discourse, finest coffee and art.

You later, bought a fresh, intoxicating gardenia for my ebony bobbed hair.
Do you recall later, Union Street in The City’s, moist, foggy, sensuous air?

The spiritual City, was indeed our forever souls', sparking, galaxy prime, 
We were both as daystars, walking its winding streets, so totally divine!


                                            1/9/2024

Premium Member Marina Melody Memories






                      San Francisco Jazz Afternoons


Carries me back to those special Sunday afternoons with you.
The striped awning Jazz cafe, our very unique,ibeloved rendezvous.


The smell of the glorious, scents of the Pacific Ocean,
Those brown flirtatious huge eyes,lashes, my West Coast sensation!

My diamond engagement ring glittered like rainbow butterfly wings.
Memories of Coltrane, Davis, music that made you my heart laugh and sing.

San Francisco, always the beguiling, mystical jewel of my heart. 
Everyday people who loved peace,jazz music, discourse, finest coffee and art.

You later, bought a fresh, intoxicating gardenia for my ebony bobbed hair.
Do you recall later, Union Street in The City’s, moist, foggy, sensuous air?

The spiritual City, was indeed our forever souls', sparking, galaxy prime, 
We were both as daystars, walking its winding streets, so totally divine!



                                    4/13/2023

The White Dove

I DREW A BLANK CONTEST
Sponsor: John Lawless


I sat and began a journal entry.
Songs of doves with white wings
flying into the night came to my
mind. Do doves fly at night? Unknown 
to me, I sat under the stars asking the 
universe. I saw the reflection of an 
eclipse and an answer entered my 
mind. Doves bring sparkles from the 
sky during the day, yet they bring 
simple musings during the dark
hours after the sun sets in the
west. Sparkles of the sun drift and
ignite mystical daystars that float
above the waters of the world. 
After dusk they carry meditation
to all the versifiers on the planet.
The poetesses release reflections
as the poets bring forth pondering
for their souls. The doves have to
be white. White signifies the pallid
purity of our essence. There are times
when we may feel dismal, but the 
doves liberate heightened freedom 
for our expressions. For every kindle 
there is a flame of inspiration. For every
ounce of encouragement there is the 
whisper of a dove. A white dove.
Soaring throughout the twilight.

Date Written: May 31, 2016


Morning's Southern Sky

In all it's glory

        the daystars presentation,

             hundrend year cycle...

Scrolls To Venus

December susurrations mingle 
in this lissome isthmus

and our wispy Vespers,
these suspired planets

gossip along misty vistas
of silvery insinuations 
and hushed hints. 

The fractured lisps 
of elusive revelations
curl in the breeze, 

a gypsy veil 

between shivering lips
in the cusp 
of our trysting breaths.

Ascending daystars converse
in this lexis of secrets
and draw us a scroll to Venus
with each breathless ellipsis 
between whispers.

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