Limpid Poems

Festive Fall

Fall with its limpid deep blue skies

Flamboyant leaves dipped in garish dyes


Place: 1st

Druidic Muse

A slow and joyous path beneath the skies,
Earth holds me close in rooted ground each day,
While wind blows cloudy liquid dreams that rise,
Islands are adrift in clean clouds that stray.

You, wise young Druid, cloaked in ageless green,
Stand firm upon the soil where Nature dwells.
Limpid and true, your waters flow serene.
A gift you give when I am overwhelmed.

Golden youth wrapped in stars from Scottish hills,
Near me, you linger, yet gaze far and wide.
In my mind, etched, where inner vision thrills.
You blaze within, my rising star and guide.

Once fading, I was healed by sacred grace.
My vivid heart revived in your embrace.

African Rain

It falls with grace.
Metallic bawls hail the strength of zinc roofs.
At the mercy of the thatch,
Drops drip from needle points of skeletal
Palm fronds.
Particles of rain descend on thresholds
Among dewed terrains.
The petrichor befriends the atmosphere,
Caressing limpid warmth with floating cold.
Lightning, a white dancing Anaconda, races with speed,
Filling the tenebrous plains with lights of hope.
Troubled skies ululate through the power of thunder.
I always recline on that liquid voice!
Rainmakers cream their palms
And roast fresh leaves of
Epochal petals
Plucked from somnolent trees.
Bubbles, green and full of life, puke,
Filling up the mouths of burning woods.
Grey darkness suggests the pleasant wars of
May through October,
When distant wayward drops
Trickle before the deafening deluge.
I hail the blandishments of July
For the society of fattened yams and the
Worthy tendrils —festooned confetti of ceremonial
Harvests.
Droughts yawn in vain when the attitude of
Wet seasons befriends the skies,
Yielding fecund grimes that grace the soil.

A Pond's Melody

A pool in the shade.
water torn with small ripples.
goldfish darted  up and down,
in limpid water.
when the carp leaped suddenly,
I heard the pond's melody.

Jersey Belle, My Jersey Girl

'twas at the country fair I spied her
outstanding in her field
(in many more ways than one)
beyond compare second to none
eyelashes long and lovely skin of velvety down
I insist who could resist those eyes so big so brown
(limpid pools?) 'twould make a fool of (almost) any man
but I'm her biggest fan and I won't lie I can't deny
a complexion creamy a gaze quite dreamy
took my breath away that day
and in her hair a ribbon a ribbon of bonny blue
lost my heart (and then my mind) what's a boy to do
'twere love instantly 'At first sight' one might even say
(could she be the one for me?)
I couldn't let her get away and so I took her home
it was a first for me but please don't think the worst
(there'll be no matrimony)
I've sailed the seven seas to the four corners of the earth
been to hell (without a handbasket) and for what it's worth
been around the whole wide world
but waiting there at the country fair
where ruminating I found my one and only
my Jersey Belle, my Jersey girl

Angelic Syzygy

The dark intestine of the sea
Swallowed a colony of moonlit bats,
God laughed and threw a new

Canopic jar of graceful waves
For Set and Horus to quarrel over;
God smiled again and the darkness

Stampeded over distant green hills,
Horus cried and Set fainted;
God grimaced and the luminous

Blackness enveloped every flower,
Ancient cliffs and ghastly crabs remained
Transfixed by limpid moonshine;

But the pale owl wrapped its feathers
Around the spirit of every paperbark tree;
Victorious as ever, Pallas traced

The eldritch mnemonics of the Big Dipper
To the earth and Arcturus
Rejoined in an angelic syzygy

A Kiss In The Dark -POTD

A Kiss In The Dark

You light up in the darkness
With the Heaven woven stars
In velvet tones of stillness
I calmly watch; night is ours.

Chill wind swirled rhythmic chanting,
Cocoon those well-chosen words,
Pleasing closeness, enchanting
A taste of natural bloom.

Closed eyes met a world of dreams
amorous scene into dance
A kiss in the limpid dark.
Warm silence serenaded.

The Golden Oriole Found - A Fantasy Story

Martin came to a cleft in the rocks
The oriole must have gone this way
It was narrow and curving
A sudden turn, and everything seemed to change.
Shrill, reedy music of pipes filled the heavy air,
A smell of musk of goats and their dung. 
Invisible cicadas sustained the piper's lament.

Suddenly, he found himself in front of a small but deep lake.
Weeping willows, large copper-coloured beeches 
Surrounded by a large pool of azure water. 
There was a calm tranquillity about the place 
Whilst the air was saturated with a fragrance 
Of exotic flowering lavender-like trees.

He heard a splash, and out stepped a young woman. 
Her canary yellow elegant swimsuit
Clung wetly to her honey-coloured body. 
Damp citrine hair formed a frame around an oval face
That was highlighted by an upturned, pointed nose. 
He did not move but stood mesmerized, 
Looking into her blue, limpid eyes.
A sweet smile shimmered on her lips.
"Hello," she said in a mellifluous voice. 
Her smile was inviting. "My name is Goldie Oriole. 
Come, sit near me 
And tell me how you found this place."


To be concluded in Part 3

September Falls

Shedding of leaves
Every flower fading
Petals drooping
Temperatures declining
Early morning mists
Moments of weak sunlight
Birds chirping uneasily
Each day with winter on its way
Red,yellow and brown leaves

Fruits in need of gathering
Acres shorn of their golden wheat
Limpid waters fretted with thin ice
Lots of leaves in heaps
Summer now but a memory.

seasonal euphoria

Do you think we’re the sort of girls to sit around on a Sunday night?
EAH (loud buzzer sound) you’d be wrong!!

What’s the opposite of seasonal depression - seasonal euphoria?
I’m self-diagnosing here, but I think I’ve got it.
I have all the symptoms:

Excessive happiness: a level of joy statistically improbable.
Compulsive smiling: grinning under the most mundane circumstances.
Irrational optimism: the feeling everything will turn out all right.
Compulsive socializing: relentlessly engaging in parties and outings.
Impulsive behavior: capricious decisions that lead to.. stuff.
Difficulty focusing: trouble concentrating on ‘serious subjects.’
Increased appetites: A craving for.. everything fun.

I have to call it. The symptoms are limpid, my diagnosis is:
Summer, seasonal euphoria, and it feels pretty good.
.
.
Songs for this:
Rooftop by Kelly Jones
The Game of Love by Katrina & the Waves
DeadBeat Club by The B-52s

Rose Blooms in Spring

She turns sixteen one cold December clime
He strings dissembling lover’s thorns so girthed
The sprouts of pristine virtue split by crime
The core is sore, this shriveled Rose is birthed
Though frigid Rose, she seeks to now resorb
In her befuddled plight, she mopes the night
Unless she grips the dim celestine orb,
This missy won’t discern the course to light
For limpid routes unveil the flourished trees
The cue this Rose reckoned to spring to growth
With flower buds resurging strong in breeze
The core once sore is now in timely blowth
She’s now eighteen one blissful, springy morn
Before the world, this blossomed Rose is born

Are There Days Without Darkness

Do others often ask themselves, 
" Are there days without darkness...
when another storm shows fierceness?
Has hope dimmed for selfish reasons? "

And the living pay little attention to events,
although they grin and appear to be perplexed;
and they miss every sign of the crucial times:
how can they not be aware? That's so absurd!  

Are there days without darkness?
The evil ones embrace dark ideals
to accomplish a task linked to death,
to control and suppress each breath!

Anybody who holds the absolute power, 
shouldn't neglect the masses with needs;
money is squandered on wars that drives:
brother against brother, sister against sister! 

Lost is the concept of fairness, of humanness;
they silence the one who's forced to rebels against
the iron hand from the throne of false atonement:
they have built a dungeon fit for raving lions!

Are there days without darkness,
with limpid skies of unfaded blueness?
Are the paved roads free of thistles:
where all are safe from vile threats?

Why did I Fall for You, O' Sun?

O, why did I fall for you, O' sun,
When my soul is nestled in the deeps?
Agape and afraid, my eyne mosey deeper still; they run,
Yet on the colder current your warmth invitingly sleeps.

The distance that defies the divine betwixt us
Somehow is no occlusion for you to reach me,
But gods 'gainst me guarding your gates, and hope's quietus,
Make my valentines reaching you an impossibility. 

Somehow still, suffocated in these sorrowful seas,
I seem to mishear the rhythm of your limpid light
As a melody yearning to find the lost keys
To my manacles and enrapture me with your sight.

When finally I undo these tethers for you,
The cosmos Herself derides my dolorous deeps
Laved in a longing that over millennia grew,
And shrouds your smile with a prejudiced eclipse.

But I see you clad carnally in that cerecloth--
Why?--stoking the gypsy in me with your misconstrued call.
Why did you build that stairway of light and masquerading troth,
That I so eagerly took, thus perishing in a fall?

Healing

Was I blind... 
Or had I willful blindness?
I was surely not ignorant,
Neither was I acquainted.
Heart was in gale,
Mind did acquiesce.
I was always a coward,
Who never confronted.

I saw those flags,
Brightest and limpid.
Red in qualms,
Redder in distrust,
Reddest in name callings,
You were my dear,
DOMINEERING IN EVERYTHING.

You were preeminent,
That is why I capitulated.
But that was show,
I never calculated.

Yes I did a mistake,
Yes I am admitting,
You tought me a lot,
a lot destructing,
I am now back,
See here my dear,
Here is my audacity.

To everything there is a season

The moonbroch is quite pronounced tonight—rain can’t be far off. It will be good for the vegetable garden and save my back from having to cart water for a few days. Not too much rain, though, as the skins of the tomatoes would split; they are about to be harvested ...
in their prime
   full and promising
             under limpid sky
threadbare jumper 
gathered close

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