Those first times that we’d meet

This villanelle is for the dverse prompt.

Julian_Falat_0033

Light is harsh and hard in this dull heat,

The moon a pale reflection of the sun,

Reminds me of those first times that we’d meet.

 

Air so still I hear the slow wing beat

Of buzzards, drawn by sound of hunter’s gun,

Light is harsh and hard in this dull heat.

 

Afternoons, café terrace replete,

We’d saunter home already half-undone,

Reminds me of those first times that we’d meet.

 

Summer fruit is never half so sweet,

As those we tasted, our love just begun,

Light is harsh and hard in this dull heat.

 

Looking back, a cynic, I’d delete

Your promises, just so much hollow fun—

Reminds me of those first times that we’d meet.

 

Wiser now, I fly on nimble feet,

Mellow dusk’s hues bathe me as I run,

Away from all the pain of this dull heat,

That recalls those first times that we’d meet.

A place for us

I wrote this villanelle a while ago, but I think it fits the Real Toads prompt to write a poem that makes the reader believe in something that isn’t real.

1024px-Rippl_Sour_Cherry_Tree_in_Blossom_1909

There is a place for us, somewhere

Beyond the veil of misty blue,

Where cherry blossom fills the air.

 

I see it in my dreams, so fair,

Of every subtle earthly hue,

There is a place for us somewhere.

 

Should we let go and should we dare

Follow our hearts and start anew,

Where cherry blossom fills the air?

 

You let go my hand; I cannot bear

That you forget what we both knew—

There is a place for us somewhere.

 

You walk into midsummer’s glare,

Toss back my heart, my dreams bestrew

Where cherry blossom fills the air.

 

I hide my tears from your cold stare

And dream of what used to be true—

There was a place for us somewhere

Where cherry blossom fills the air.

 

Happiness in ripples

Photo©W. carter

800px-Ripples_dispersing_sunlight_into_underwater_rainbows_in_Brofjorden

When grasped too hard, joy like a nettle stings,

Peer too long into lake waters clear,

Happiness escapes in widening rings.

 

A dream achieved, and still the yearning clings,

Though we have touched the green light on the pier—

When grasped too hard, joy like a nettle stings.

 

The dawn breaks harsh that no desire brings,

Dream horses bolt and shy away in fear,

Happiness escapes in widening rings.

 

The way is strewn with arrows spent and slings,

The longed-for prize eludes, a leaping deer,

When grasped too hard, joy like a nettle stings.

 

In this bright world of myriad splendid things,

To choose one star and try to keep it near,

Happiness escapes in widening rings.

 

Be like the gull, content with his broad wings,

Bask in the golden light of this blue sphere,

For rose has thorns, joy like a nettle stings,

And ripples out of sight in widening rings.

Read the story in the stars

I’m tired, not feeling too brilliant, and there are so many memories clamouring for attention that poetry today is sombre and full of massacres.

This villanelle is for the Secret Keeper’s writing prompt. This week’s words are

STRIKE | SCORE | RACE | TAKE | READ

800px-Marten_van_Cleve_-_The_Massacre_of_the_Innocents

Read the story in the stars if you have eyes,

Follow its chain of fire, night-time’s glow,

The dawn will come too soon, on wings time flies.

 

With memories that dance in velvet skies,

Or slip so soft and like the river flow,

Read the story in the stars if you have eyes.

 

Deep in the bones is scored a life of sighs,

Where sorrow gnaws and bloody night fears grow,

The dawn will come too soon, on wings time flies.

 

Run into the light in sunburst’s guise,

And leave your pain and anger here below,

Read the story in the stars if you have eyes.

 

With a million mothers’ unheard anguished cries,

Sing the night to sleep with laments low,

The dawn will come too soon, on wings time flies.

 

Take the ship of dreams, sail to the prize,

Remember, but let peace fall deep and slow,

Read the story in the stars if you have eyes,

The dawn will surely come, for winged time flies.

 

When all the world is calm

For the Secret Keepers’s word prompt using the words

SCORE | SLEEP | FREE | CALM | ESCAPE

I wrote this villanelle, which also fits the NaPoWriMo theme of nocturne rather well.

Orion_constellation

When all the world is calm and still in sleep,

No ropes bind my dream-skimming craft to quay,

No clipped wings mine, that earthbound have me creep.

 

The daytime cares I cannot o’erleap,

Dissolve like wind blows blossom from the tree,

When all the world is calm and still in sleep.

 

The star-dark sky above, around so deep,

Invites me to take wing and soar bird-free,

No clipped wings mine, that earthbound have me creep.

 

I count the stars, your face’s outline keep,

Your smile, for me, that no one else can see,

When all the world is calm and still in sleep.

 

Though you are far, across the ocean deep,

I’ll fly to you, wherever you may be,

No clipped wings mine, that earthbound have me creep.

 

When morning comes, so empty, I may weep,

For all the dreams that with the daylight flee,

But all the world is calm and still in sleep,

And with broad wings, I’ll never earthbound creep.

It came upon a midnight clear

This villanelle is for the Secret Keeper’s writing prompt. Some of you might guess who the poem is dedicated to. A clue—it isn’t Jesus.

The words (or synonyms) are:

RANT | CLEAR | PERFORM | DOWN | DIRT

741px-The_call_of_the_stars;_a_popular_introduction_to_a_knowledge_of_the_starry_skies_with_their_romance_and_legend_(1919)_(14597260518)

It came upon a midnight clear,

A star looked down on earth below,

In silence spinning, this blue sphere.

 

In starlit glade, a timid deer

Watched silver fall in silent show,

It came upon a midnight clear.

 

A red fox saw bright beams appear,

Yet night was black as any crow,

In silence spinning, this blue sphere.

 

Beams bent and curled, a form unclear,

Of light and grace, a silver glow,

It came upon a midnight clear.

 

It wove a song sweet as a tear

That fell to earth like rivers flow,

In silence spinning, this blue sphere.

 

A mesh of light that drove out fear,

With words that every heart should know,

The song rained down on midnight clear,

And bathed in beauty this blue sphere.

This path leads between waking and sleeping

The NaPoWriMo prompt today is the repeated line. Since there’s nothing I love more than a repeated line, here is a villanelle.

Coming_Twilight,_by_George_Ames_Aldrich

This path leads between waking and sleeping,

Sunshine and darkness, red dawn to twilight,

Meandering gaily, past willows weeping.

 

Beyond the hills, the ocean rolls sweeping

The strand clear of footprints left by the night,

This path leads between waking and sleeping.

 

The wind in the cherries white blossom is reaping,

Strewing the path that the sun gilds so bright,

Meandering gaily, past willows weeping.

 

Never a sound from the lark chicks, no peeping,

Listening in their grass nest for fox tread light,

This path leads between waking and sleeping.

 

The river flows silver with salmon fish leaping,

Whispering magic, our dream eyes closed tight,

Meandering gaily, past willows weeping.

 

You give me your hand, your heart in my keeping,

With swans’ wings we dream, although in our flight,

We follow the path that, from waking to sleeping,

Meanders with laughter, past willows weeping.

Escaping the dark

A villanelle for the Secret Keeper’s writing prompt. The words this week are:

THINK | RISE | RHYTHM | FLOAT| FALL

painting ©Feliks Paszkowski

1110px-Baltyk

Dark falls the night outside this hall,

The stars bestrew its unseen skies,

And fear grows teeth beyond the wall.

 

Across the moon, a silver pall

The eye can’t pierce, although it tries,

Dark falls the night outside this hall.

 

Upon the strand, tossed by the squall,

Our barque still floats, it won’t capsize,

But fear grows teeth beyond the wall.

 

I see the swell of waves that fall

On silver sand, our barque their prize,

Dark falls the night outside this hall.

 

If only thoughts were not in thrall

To bleak despair and hope’s demise,

But fear grows teeth beyond the wall.

 

Grey gulls drift, I hear their call,

And wait in hope, the sun will rise,

Though darkest night falls on this hall

And fear grows teeth beyond the wall.

The stars look very different today

Husband was having a David Bowie fest this morning when I went out. His words inspired this villanelle.

Comet_Hale_Bopp_NASA

The stars look very different today,

I can’t see how to paste them in the blue,

They fell extinguished when you walked away.

 

A million words I wrought to make you stay,

But on my tongue not one of them rang true,

The stars look very different today.

 

No dreams we dreamed still shine in light of day,

The sun, the moon and stars from hanging all askew,

They fell extinguished when you walked away.

 

Once we would watch in awe their wild array,

Let their fierce glory pierce us through and through,

The stars look very different today.

 

The future’s dead like soldiers in a fray,

Now darkness fills the void where comets flew,

They fell extinguished when you walked away.

 

Where rainbows arced, the sky is dull and grey,

Night falls, its glitter wishing can’t renew,

The stars look very different today,

They fell extinguished when you walked away.

 

 

Night blooms

A villanelle inspired by the glorious perfume of wistaria that fills the house at the moment.

Glycine

 

The night air’s full of the headiest scent,

From the trailing vines round the arbour seat,

I still see the blooms though the light is spent.

 

Moonlight falls silver where dark clouds are rent,

And the owls are drunk drinking nectar neat,

The night air’s full of the headiest scent.

 

Your eyes said one thing, but not what you meant,

Beneath the vines where in springtime we’d meet,

I still see the blooms though the light is spent.

 

I touched your dark face but you’d not relent,

With heavy heart I admitted defeat,

The night air’s full of the headiest scent.

 

It was I who left with my shoulders bent,

Through the vines the owl swept on wings so fleet,

I still see the blooms, though the light is spent.

 

You took the sun from the sky when you went,

The moon and its silver where soft feathers beat,

But I still have the vines, their heady scent,

I still see the blooms, though the light is spent.

 

 

 

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