And white clouds billow after stormy skies.
But every little death is still a loss,
and we can join the mother when she cries.
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Category: Poetry
From the growling stars
I paid the Oracle two visits in quick succession as the first message seemed not quite right somehow. The second visit gave a poem that is completely unequivocal.
The moon rocks
on stormy seas,
heaving with wind and rain.
Shadows on the sun sweat blood
beneath these cool blue skies,
whisper me music to die for.
Dogs are angels
from the growling stars,
old as the oceans
with their ghost fish.
Wild hearts
in the dark of night time,
ask only for a bit of love
and a soft voice
Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 14
If life is taken so another grows
it seems to strike a balance in my eyes,
like sun in summer follows winter snows,
Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 13
‘The world is made this way, for all our talk,’
you take my hand and pluck a wild dog rose,
‘beneath this hedge too, fox and weasel stalk.’
Waterfall tanka
Topped 4000 words today to pass the 82000 mark. To celebrate, plus the footie results, a tanka for Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge that I have been trying to resist lately.
across the stream
a fallen branch breaks the flow
pooling cool green
beneath summer leaves
water falls lazy slow
Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 12
This season, gold as butter, ripened brings
the harvester to reap and raze the stalks
where furred things burrow deep and skylark sings.
Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 11
Their pale and gentle billows swell with dread,
where buzzards mewl and hang on moth-like wings,
below, the peaceful fields are strewn with dead.
