Moon Spirits, NaPoWriMo

Johann_Georg_Haeselich_-_Holsteinischer_See,_Mondschein_(1847)

Johann Georg Haeselich (1806-1894)
Holstein Sea – Moonlight

 

In the dawning of owl-light

when the bell-voiced flowers

croon goodnight,

and the tide-looped river

mirror-shines still-bright—

the spirits gather, awakened

by the silver feathered light.

 

Moon-blown they dance

tickled by her rays (the sight!)

to make a vagary,

and convened in delight,

to ring with dark-vowelled voices

singing peace upon the night.

 

Day 16 of NaPoWriMo is to write a list poem. It seems like I’ve done a few lists already, so I’m following the dVerse prompt today instead. Laura asks us to write a poem “using at least FOUR of the hyphenated compound words” from the list of words taken from the works of Dylan Thomas. I’ve done this and added some of my own.

Additionally, in a tweet, Dale Rogerson (who blogs at A Dalectable Life) challenged me to use the word “vagaries.” I used the singular form, vagary, discovering that an old meaning of “to make a vagary,” was to make a wandering journey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She Blew Away the Glowering Skies: NaPoWriMo, Day 5

Almost Full, Almost Solstice

 

She blew away the glowering skies

as the mockingbirds sang and the doves cooed,

“come April breezes of wonder and whys.”

 

The moon rose with the softest of sighs,

humming to herself to brighten her mood,

she blew away the glowering skies.

 

I saw it happen, with my own eyes

the sighing moon, herself renewed

with April breezes of wonder and whys.

 

Would a different being much less wise

demand to be wooed, or be more crude

as she blew away the glowering skies?

 

If we tumble soon into our own demise

in feuds and sullen ineptitude, you may conclude,

we’re lost to April breezes of wonder—a thousand whys—

 

Yet for now, see the sun glow and rise,

watch the moon set with passion imbued

as she blows away the glowering skies

to bring April breezes of wonder and whys.

 

 

It’s cold and rainy here today. I’m hoping for nice April weather tomorrow.  The prompt for Day Five of NaPoWriMo: “(1) the villanelle form, (2) lines taken from an outside text, and/or (3) phrases that oppose each other in some way.”  It was enough for me to write this villanelle (which is also this month’s poetry form at dVerse. )

 

 

 

In the Dream Time: NaPoWriMo

The_Future_Began_Here

“The Future Began Here,” ESO/B. Tafreshi [CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0)] via Wikipedia Commons: “This week’s picture was taken by ESO Photo Ambassador Babak Tafreshi at ESO’s La Silla Observatory. The bright lane of the Milky Way can be seen streaking across the skies above the Chilean Atacama Desert, beneath which sits the New Technology Telescope (NTT), one of the ten active telescopes located at the observatory. La Silla is the oldest observation site used by ESO. . .”

The moon hums, and the stars sing

and the souls go a-wandering,

to dance in a shimmering ring.

 

There is no past, no care what future brings

as they float and whirl and swing–

while the moon hums, and the stars sing,

 

the owls hoot along, then they take wing,

and the trees remember—everything–

as the souls go a-wandering.

 

Perhaps I dream? Time circles, springs

when souls fly high in gossamer strings,

to dance in shimmering rings.

 

Off prompt today for NaPoWriMo. I just couldn’t face sad, and the first two lines came to me at the gym. (Don’t ignore the muse!) This is a cascade poem. I wrote of a cascade, but I didn’t actually write a cascade poem for Amaya’s prompt the other day on dVerse, so I’m doing this one for Open Link night. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Linnets Take Wing

(c) Paintings Collection; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

Albert Zimmermann, Bodensee (Lake Constance), Public Domain, Wikipedia

 

 “There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.”

–W.B. Yeats, “The Lake Isle of Innisfree”

 

At the glimmering lake the birds still sing,

though you’ve been gone for many a year,

now, I watch as linnets take wing.

 

Once I longed to wear your ring–

before things changed, I sought you here,

at the glimmering lake the birds still sing,

 

You promised sun, moon, and everything,

before bad times came and settled near,

then I watched as linnets took wing.

 

I realize now, I was just a fling–

that thought is now as clear

as the glimmering lake where birds still sing

 

where at my side, our baby’d cling

without a father. She brought me cheer–

as I watched the linnets take wing

 

I dreamt I was a queen and you my king,

before you sailed far from my pier

at the glimmering lake, the birds still sing,

And I—I watch the linnets take wing.

 

For the next month, we’re writing villanelles at dVerse, under Sarah’s capable direction. I’ve only written a couple of these, so I’m tiptoeing into this challenge by revising one I wrote for Sarah’s very first dVerse prompt! See how things come full circle in poetry land? Here’s the link to the original version. It was written during last year’s NaPoWriMo, and this year’s is coming up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sojourners

Carl_Locher_-_Fishing_cutters_in_the_moonlit_night_-_Google_Art_Project

Carl Locher, “Fishing Cutters in the Moonlit Night,” [Public Domain] Wikipedia

Guided by the glittery night,

the sojourners flee,

sailing by starlight,

looking for their destiny.

 

The sojourners flee

north, south, east, or west–

looking for their destiny,

which constellation offers rest–

 

north, south, east, or west?

Which the most auspicious sky?

Which constellation offers rest.

Which offers them a why?

 

Which the most auspicious sky,

a harbinger of hope?

Which offers them a why?

(Their fate spins in a horoscope.)

 

A harbinger of hope–

and so, off they go–

which offers them a why—

visions on an epic scope.

 

And so, off they go

sailing by starlight,

carried by the current’s flow,

guided by the glittery night.

 

Here is another pantoum, the dVerse form of the month. This is for Anmol’s prompt on geography.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spikes and Shackles

Slave_shackles_(30393496593)

Slave Shackles JvL- from Netherlands [CC BY 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D Wikipedia Commons

I see the spiked collar and the shackles. These may have been meant for a child, the exhibit label states. They would fit my wrist, I think. Ghosts hover; my heart aches.

mothers’ cries echo

soar across Atlantic sea—

gale winds thrash the sails

 

This is a quadrille for dVerse. De asked us to use the word spike. A quadrille is a poem of 44 words. Mine is in the form of a haibun, though perhaps not totally traditional.

 

 

Once There Was a Time

512px-The_Sower_-_painting_by_Van_Gogh

Vincent Van Gogh, “The Sower,” Wikipedia Commons

 

Once there was a time to sow

to scatter seeds upon the ground

to water well and watch them grow

a time when hope was found

 

to scatter seeds upon the ground

to grow stalks of hate that bled

a time when hope was found

and lost among the dead

 

to grow stalks of hate that bled

that banished love and kindness

and lost among the dead

the acts of willful blindness

 

that banished love and kindness?

That can’t be how the story goes.

The acts of willful blindness?

Now’s the time to speak, oppose.

 

That can’t be how the story goes.

Plants seeds, a peaceful dream.

Now’s the time. To speak, oppose

is fine. See how wishes gleam?

 

Plant seeds, a peaceful dream,

to water well and watch them grow

is fine. See how wishes gleam–

once there was a time to sow?

 

We’re writing pantoums this month at dVerse, so here’s another one from me. There’s still time to join us.

Lillian has asked us to use some part of the verse from Ecclesiastes, which is also used in the song, “Turn, Turn, Turn” as a prompt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March Madness: Haibun

Small white crocuses push through the soil, seeking the light. Soon, they’re covered in snow. Here, now, this bipolar month swings between seasons, sometimes in a day. But March gusts will turn to gentle April breezes. Soft showers will carry the scent of flowers, and the trill of birdsong will float through windows opened to the light. I see the beauty of the snow-dusted trees, but I long for spring.

Another year turns,

tender greens peep through soft white–

dreams roll in on clouds

 

IMG_1647

 

 

This is for my March Madness prompt on dVerse.

I’m also linking  this to Frank Tassone’s Haikai Challenge on light snow.

 

 

 

 

The Robin Sang the Light

800px-American_Robin_KSC01pp1005

“Seen on KSC grounds, a robin pauses in a Brazilian pepper tree filled with red berries.” NASA, via Wikipedia Commons, Public domain

 

The robin sang the light

“Get up, come play,” said he,

“away the dream-filled night,

up here, you will be free.”

 

“Get up, come play,” said he,

but the mossy limbs were high.

Up here, you will be free.

No, I cannot fly.

 

But the mossy limbs were high

and shadowed in the dawn.

No, I cannot fly,

I stood upon the lawn.

 

And shadowed in the dawn

was nature sweet and wild,

I stood upon the lawn,

I listened, and I smiled.

 

Was nature sweet and wild?

(Away the dream-filled night!)

I listened, and I smiled–

the robin sang the light.

 

Another pantoum for dVerse. Yes, this is what I’m doing instead of all the work I have to do. Don’t judge me till you try it. 🙂 Gina is hosting this forms challenge. She explains the history and how to write one. Come join us!

This pantoum is a revision of the first pantoum I wrote–for one of Jane Dougherty’s challenges.

 

 

 

Horizon–Pantoum

Sunset_on_the_Sea_MET_DT226485

John Frederick Kensett, Sunset on the Sea,” Wikipedia Commons

 

At the horizon, known and unknown meet,

this liminal space between sky and sea

when the sun dips down, and night not complete

where dreams are unleashed and left to dance free–

 

this liminal space between sky and sea,

in this place, past and future meld and dwell,

where dreams are unleashed and left to dance free

we hover here, and fall under its spell.

 

In this place, past and future meld and dwell,

dreams sigh spindrift over the sand. Enthralled,

we hover here, and fall under its spell

as tall ships vanish, beyond shouts and call.

 

What might fate foretell here–our joys and fears

when the sun dips down, and night not complete?

Do we seek, question, wait for what appears

at the horizon? Known and unknown meet.

 

 

Gina is hosting the next dVerse form, the Pantoum.  Her post explains the history and mechanics of the form.

This a re-working of one I wrote about a year ago. This poem was inspired by a post by Frank of A Frank Angle. I borrowed my first line from him. Thanks, Frank!  🙂