I felt the tug, the loosening air~
Oh joy! I drift without earthly care.
I popped free with a laughing spin,
a tiny pilgrim, born of wind.
My comrades joined—what giddy glee,
dancing like colorful confetti spiritually.
The autumn breeze nudged us in its stride,
we somersaulted, tumbling side by side.
We skimmed the lakes, pirouetting on our way~
a drifting troupe, an autumnal ballet.
We rode the rivers, wild and free,
a giggling, leaf-born odyssey.
The wind grew hushed; our laughter stilled~
as though some deeper call was filled.
We felt the earth’s slow pull begin~
God’s summons soft as whispered wind.
We settled down in muted grace~
content to fade, to feed this place.
Speeding to airport on way to meeting
car skidded on highway, somersaulted
landed in ditch, wheels whirling
plopped there, unscathed, stunned, calm, what next ?
Miraculously CAR LIFTED ITSELF
back onto road, continued to airport
arrived safely at meeting, EXALTED
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Poet’s Note : Moment happened whilst
working for a National Educational NGO,
having to travel regularly to various cities to oversee projects __
42 Mirrors
By Lucien Quincy Senna
Mirror, mirror
tell me all,
Who I am
Who I was,
painted seagreen with vanity
or socketed modesty.
Pride and pain
my old pretenders.
I am full of dead men's bones,
their advance over me.
I trashed and trotted
other people's causes,
statecraft of the most
sinister skull-duggery.
Mirror, mirror
see me now,
my strawberry leaves
for I am no longer twenty-four.
Pinking the raw edge of silk,
trusting it all.
Then that Ramshackle Empire
came clattering for me
a penal code
institutions for troubled women
"Pull your bellies between your knees!" said the nurse.
The hours pass upon the eastern turn
my faith anew while I was interred there,
until I somersaulted
out of the deep waters.
An ocean greyhound
who was simply considered
a whited sepulchre.
A mask for women over forty.
Part One
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/mid-summer_night_dream_1482320
Concluded
Elves, dwarves, mini giants, and hobbits all performed.
But last was Fili as he strutted to the middle of the glen.
Secretly clutching his alexandrite lode, he flew
Straight up ten feet with a view for all to see.
Fireflies flew erratically around him, a ghostly shine.
As Fili moved his clutched hand, he turned.
Somersaulted, spun and returned to his standing stance.
Below the people of the glen clapped in awe.
But now Fili was worried, how was he to descend
And thus receive his well merited prize?
It was the River-maid who rescued him, as she flew
And whispered in his ear. Change the lode to the left hand
She whispered, giving him a luscious kiss.
Soon Fili landed and the Fairy Queen beckoned him.
You can take your first midnight skinny dipping and eat all
The strawberries you like so much, she graciously said.
She took his lode, put it on a crown and on his head it sat.
And now Fili, the hero, was annoyed no more.
Onyx of darkness crumbled beneath my bed,
I lit a bead in fiery scarlet hues on a novel white canvas
A fire enraged in the hollows of anxieties
Oh my precious canvas burnt in raging flames
The bead from the canvas somersaulted in my room
Hallucinations of muddled cobwebs entangled me
It whirled and swooshed my fears in numbness
My drooping desires curled into creeping snails,
It flashed visions from black to topaz blue
Ruby for a while then emerald oh then amethyst
Lit the world with fireworks of hope in the moonlit sky
The reasons to die, the desires to live, dancing chaos
Ashes of my canvas scattered around in the morning,
My brush dipped in blood red fears-- yellow sapphire gleaming in my palm
June 12, 2020
Sleepless - Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
~Winner: 2nd Place
BRIAN'S select E,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~Winner: 3rd Place
There was a young fellow called Joe
Who loved to play out in the snow
But he skidded on ice
Somersaulted twice
And broke all three bones in his elbow.
February 16th 2018.
Entered in walking in the snow contest
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw.
with collars turned up,
we warm hands in our pockets...
winds pilfer the trees
~
The acorns have been bouncing like brown raindrops
If I could sell them, I would open a shop
~
As leaves somersaulted in masses from all the russet trees,
small children were running to classes, along the littered street
~
Brisk autumn winds, weaving through grass
twirl bright golden leaves, fluttered and spun
blushing like children, who tumble and laugh
playing gymnastics, having their fun
with cart-wheeling antics, under the sun
__________________________________________________________
Four Forms: Haiku,Couplet,Free Verse,Quintain
For Contest sponsored by Silent One "Poet's Dozen"
11/6/15
Driving in the city,
I'm used to many things -
Crazy cabbies, honking horns,
Pigeons spreading wings.
In attentive texters,
Speedy messengers on bikes,
Nannies pushing strollers filled
With bored or wailing tykes.
Buses not in service,
Doormen whistles blowing,
Drivers who have no idea
Which way they should be going.
But one thing I have never seen
Until my current trip
Is tumbleweed go tumbling by -
It really made me flip.
Like a bunch of dancing hay clumps,
All this tumbleweed bounced by.
As it somersaulted on
You couldn't miss it if you'd try.
It looked comical yet scary,
Almost alien to me,
Not at all like on the westerns
That I once watched on TV.
For a city gal, I'll tell you
This was special, that is true,
But I hope I never see it
Roll down Second Avenue!
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