April 10 quadrille

Winter unzips the sun unfurls spring

buds swell and spill secrets in time

exquisite intricacy of leaf and blossom

.

Where lives unfold by concrete paths in airless

rooms, traffic zipping past steel towers

souls decipher timeless arts of joy and life

©️2018 Ontheland

~

A quadrille in response to Quadrille 54: Zip it! at dVerse

The photo is from Pixabay.com under ‘universe’.

unexpected

Have you ever

stumbled into

someone else’s nightmare?

You know you have

when splat!

raw egg is dribbling

down your face

a sticky mess

that defies a quick wipe

what to do

but allow the slime to slide

as you avoid all frying pans….

~

©️2018 Ontheland

A quadrille (poem of 44 words) for dVerse including the word ‘egg’.

elemental

we are oak, our roots travel deep, our leaves rustle winds

we are birds, we surf the clouds, we dive far below

we are fish, we rule the ocean, we leap to the sun

we are seeds released by fire, born to rise again

~

©️2018 Ontheland

A quadrille for dVerse…a poem of 44 words…this week the challenge is to include ‘fire’.

recipe for coming out of winter hibernation

Drink hot soup tomato red
this February night.
Burn a candle flame.
Winter blood still
bathes chilled joints.
Newborn microbes
dance unseen.
Wear wool to hug the skin,
Breathe to clear dry lungs.
We are defrosting,
departing from winter hibernation.
Spring barely has begun.

~

A message from 44º North, 76º West for dVerse Poet’s Pub. We are quadrilling “burn” tonight.

©2018 Ontheland

drink to me

Drink to me with your eyes
I will be yours
but at your peril
My sea is vast.
Pools of magic fish
diver’s coral
aquatic gardens
and lost treasures
dazzle with mystery.
My inner confusions
flash illusion yet
my depths are true,
unexplored diffusion.

~

Remember the song: “Drink to me only with thine eyes?”  The dVerse Tuesday Poetics invitation to write poems about drinking reminded me of this opening phrase and then I wrote a quadrille.

© 2018 Ontheland

to write or not to write

Can I write a poem
grazing on
hummus-dipped
breadsticks,
stirring dull residues
of wounds and tears
that clog my spirit?
I could bounce away
but then,
would I not still feel empty?
Perhaps I will stay,
sip cold coffee,
and move my pen.

~

A poem of exactly 44 words (a ‘quadrille’) for dVerse Poets Pub using the word ‘bounce’. Perhaps not a bouncy take on bounce, but more writing will get me bouncing again.

©2018 Ontheland