NASA Goddard Space Flight Center from Greenbelt, MD, USA [Public domain]
After the bang, burning
sound and light from indefinite drift expanding red and blueshifts
now blanketed, we sit
I shiver at your touch, burning
heat and cold, turning
sound and light
the stardust trapped within
our cells, a microcosm—
Yes! I see it now.
A quadrille for my
dVerse prompt today. The prompt word is shiver. Join us!
Odilon Redon, “Béatrice”
xxxxxxxxxresplendent in golden light, xxxxxxxxthe sun is gowned, halo-headed xxxxxxxxxxand the warmth of her smile shimmering, xxxxxxxxxxthaws heart-frost–and ground, she is the bright future xwhere a seed planted now sprouts– and there is hope xxxxxx knowledge will grow, star-dusted again xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand glowing
A cleave quadrille for
dVerse. De has asked us to use the word crown. A quadrille is a dVerse poetry form. It’s a poem of 44 words.
Frost Fair on the Thames, Anonymous, c.1685
He bought ribbons for my hair,
then kissed me sweet warm lips on mine in frosted air–
impossible the tasks he set,
so, fare-thee-well to he I’ll find another yet
ribbon-adorned my hair, for desires such weighed in love, all is fair.
A quadrille for
dVerse. The prompt word is fair, and I went to ballads and history: the London frost fairs and Scarborough Fair.
“This image shows what astronomers think is one of the coldest brown dwarfs discovered so far (red dot in middle of frame). The object, called SDWFS J143524.44+335334.6, is one of 14 such brown dwarfs found by NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope using infrared light.” Wikimedia Commons
It careens through space—
failed star, the astronomers say, ancient and cold, they name it, The Accident
because they don’t understand
how compelled, it searches for the light it knows is there
invisible and beyond our perception, like dreams,
constant, like time, endless, eternal.
A quadrille for
dVerse using the prompt word careen. I wondered what careened through space and found this article about “The Accident.”
Blast and crash,
bright white bomb flash– red-fire flowers and dragon’s hot breath destruction, and the aftermath, of forever
from which you rise. Again. Remember.
Clay-cloaked secrets star-baked, retold in storied glory— Golem or phoenix? Myth or fated? Survivor embraced or avenger awaited?
dVerse where Sarah is hosting Quadrille Monday. We’re to use the word ash. This is a puente.
Paper with phoenix pattern, Unidentified artist(s) , Chinese, early 20th century. Purchase, Bequest of Dorothy Graham Bennett, 1989, Metropolitan Museum of Art
Winslow Homer, On a Lee Shore
A stone’s toss
from sea to beach, where stoic women wait,
beseeching gods of stone-face
for their men’s grace.
Storm-tossed waves, deep-sea graves–
a stone’s toss
to stone-cut hearth, the fire dead.
tie spirit-treads to stony-shore– stone-cold hearts still yearn for more.
A quadrille for
dVerse, where De asks us to use the word stone. I decided to go with the season.
Almost autumn with an Egret. the Delaware River at Red Bank Battlefield
Linger here—wait, hereafter–
listen to the gulls call in laughter. Rest awhile in this in-between the sky so blue, the trees still green—
soon, the russet-leaves will fall,
and we’ll recall–
memories dim–rose-scent and sun-kissed skin
as icy fingers stroke your chin.
A quadrille for
dVerse. Linda has asked us to use the word linger. We’re just about at the autumnal equinox, and the weather seems perfectly balanced. I wish it would linger like this for awhile.
Not old enough to drink or drive—
feeling tongue-and-groovy, we think
we know romance.
Remember your purple-striped bell-bottom pants,
that vest with fringe, you’d wear at school?
My hair was long, we were lean.
I embroidered a peace sign on my jeans.
dVerse Quadrille where De has asked us to use the word groove. Our older child found these grainy yearbook photos of us. I’ll have to look for some better photos.
Driftwood, Sunrise on the Delaware River
The earth murmurs ancient heart-songs.
Hear them in root-rush and rock-rhythms tapped by sea-spray rainbows. The eagle’s whistle slices the peached-tipped clouds– life and death balanced. Hand-in-hand, we watch the light glide through love-grief fault lines, as the ghosts dance at the river’s edge.
A quadrille (a poem of exactly 44 words) for
dVerse where De asks us to use the word heart. I could have gone in so many directions!
Great Blue Heron, Delaware River at Red Bank Battlefield
Tsunami waves of misunderstanding
surge from sea and overland, destruction in their flow, flotsam when they go.
But beneath blue sky,
the heron stands in pensive pose— His thoughts? Who knows? Warm-blooded, hollow-boned, his lungs an ancient dinosaurs’ shifted gift, far-flung-DNA stays. Life everlasting.
It’s quadrille Monday at
dVerse. Lisa has asked us to use the word stand.