When morning comes
and light returns,
hope’s feathers may lie still
but hear the wisdom of a child or
new leader with caring speech,
tromp through cool autumn woods
or cradle a late seedling—
that feeling of aliveness
(they call it ‘hope’ )
The new Quadrille word is ‘hope’. To find more poems using hope or hope-formed words, please prompt post.check ‘Mister Linky’ at the
I glimpsed history
in a cinnamon bun.
of an evergreen bark
born in tropical lands,
traded across oceans, deserts
for Gods, monarchs and feasts
Today: a stick for hot cider, or brown powder in a spice jar.
This was a quadrille for dVerse using the word ‘spice’. For cinnamon, Cinnamomum is the plant genus. Cassia and Tamale are two species names. The photos are offered for public use through Pixabay: cinnamon sticks and spice jars.
I feel your suchness without knowing your name.
I crave to know more, to adorn you with name and story.
My senses thirst for fractal arrays beyond an idle glance.
I was born free of words that now tailor my thoughts, clothe my senses.
“1 :the quality or state of being such :essential or characteristic quality…
2 Buddhism :nameless and characterless reality in its ultimate nature — called also tathata, thusness”
A recent Ontheroad prompt has had me pondering ‘suchness’ and ‘free’ is this week’s theme for quadrilles at dVerse Poets Pub.
Standing on a crate,
in a halo of dappled
vines and fruit,
I think of Jack climbing
a magic beanstalk to the clouds
where a giant bellowed:
But up here,
there is nothing amiss
only a brief moment of verdant bliss.
It is Quadrille Monday at dVerse again and the word to be included in our 44-word poem is ‘bliss’. I use the word ‘fruits’ to refer to green beans as technically green beans are fruits and I feel the word conveys a sense of harvest and abundance. The photo below shows the beanstalk (bean vine climbing a bamboo pole) that inspired this poem and to the right, the black crate I stand on to reach the beans at the top. And as a bonus, the photo also shows a visit by my local wild turkey flock. Fortunately the beans were not disturbed as they are surrounded by netting (not visible in the photo.)
Dreams billow in August mist,
steam rises from griddled ground,
a pillowed moon in darkness rests.
Lightning tongues serrate the sky,
drums roll thunder across the night,
deepest fears surge in flashes—while
fervent hearts murmur wishes for
soft cool rushes of healing rain.
A quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words, for dVerse Monday. The word of the day is ‘dream’.
A quadrille for dVerse: Be not Afraid:
Hush my dear
hear this tale:
will end night terror,
Earth will flash the sky—
a spectacular splash
like firework flowers
on a national holiday—
and a mushroom cloud
will trail the Milky Way
then fear will be
Arms flicker and flash
the refrigerator gleams
memories spin and sway the kitchen floor
essence of adolescence
sparks lunges and leaps
tuned to infectious beats
she’s returned from the past
on a ribbon of guileless joy
and her future self nods
a spritely reunion.
I learned that the word for this week’s quadrille for DVerse is ‘flicker’ after having posted a haiku featuring a ‘flicker-flash’. So I decided to expand the haiku into this 44-word quadrille.