Safe Harbors

Now–a church in Philadelphia,

a sanctuary harboring

immigrants—

as medieval churches

once harbored

fugitives.

 

Then–my grandparents,

immigrants escaping

hate, fear, pogroms,

the shtetl, the Pale—

 

traveling—

to faraway ports–

 

chasing the American dream

through the Depression

 

always seeking a safe harbor–beyond

 

Lillian at dVerse has asked us to write a quadrille using the word harbor.

 

 

Consequences from Truths

He is quick,

(slight scruffy boy)

but she is quicker,

grabbing his arm

(so thin),

his hand clutches an apple

from her market stand.

Flutters in her womb–

quickening. Life.

(He could be my son.)

She gives him bread,

more apples . . .

lets him go.

 

1024px-Louise_Moillon_-_Market_Scene_with_a_Pick-pocket_-_WGA16072

Louise Moillon, “Market Scene with a Pick-pocket,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

A quadrille for dVerse, where de Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) has asked us to use the word “quick.”

 

Blue and All the Colors, Earth: Quadrille

There is a silver spring

where golden fishes dwell

between the banks of sweet brown earth.

There, wondrous scarlet finches sing

in warbling notes, as if you to tell

(with constant mirth)

“Both skies and horses can be blue.”

You decide, dream-world, or true?

 

Franz Marc, “Large Blue Horses,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A quadrille for dVerse. Kim asked us to use the word, “earth.”

In my mind, a perfect world would include blue horses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Box of Wishes: Quadrille

I put my wishes in a box of sparkling air

send them off so you can share–

send them—there!–

to fly through star-filled skies,

scatter, fall, like meteor showers

land, bloom as luminescent flowers

of hope and joy,

on worlds restored, not destroyed.

 

I just put up a post about my new books, so now for something completely different–a quadrille for dVerse. De Jackson, aka Whimsy Gizmo, has asked us to use the word “box.”  This is my anti-darkness quadrille.  🙂

 

 

Dream Puzzles: Haibun Quadrille

I dream of huge white blossoms flaming and shooting off petals into the sky, turning it dark with flowery ash. Wondrous and a bit terrifying, this puzzle of my mind.

 

Moon silvers the trees,

green leaves pale in midnight glow—

dreams waiting to bloom

 

Anonymous, Südländische Ideallandschaft bei Mondschein, [Public Domain] via Wikipedia Commons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Haibun quadrille for dVerse. Mish has asked us to use the word “puzzle,” or some form of it, in a quadrille, a poem of 44 words.

 

 

 

 

 

Beckoning Breezes: Quadrille

Spring breeze bewitches,

twitches–

fills you with an itch

to stretch and grow,

to flow

with rivers

you quiver,

undulating in delight.

 

Fall breeze calls–

unhitch–

enthralling you,

you switch

your sights–

to fly with geese

in victory’s V,

fleeing

through gloaming’s violet light.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is for dVerse, now celebrating its seventh anniversary. Happy Anniversary! Grace has asked us to write a quadrille (a poem of 44 words) using the word itch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breaking Free

“We’ll know as children again all that we are
destined to know, that the water is cold
and deep, and the sun penetrates only so far”
~ Jim Harrison from Death Again

 

Torn from parents

hearts ripped apart–

how it starts–

the cycle of hate

spinning behind gates.

Business we’re told,

souls are sold

in heat or dank cold

children are taught

the rotational fear,

fraught frontiers–

till some break free

to lead us

from insanity.

 

This is a quadrille for dVerse, where Kim has asked us to use the word cycle, and a response to Day 18 of Jilly’s 28 Days of Unreason, inspired by the poetry of Jim Harrison. Last night we saw Audra McDonald in concert. One of the songs she performed was a medley of “You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught” from South Pacific (Rodgers and Hammerstein) and “Children Will Listen” from Into the Woods (Sondheim).

 

 

 

 

Stepping Stones

Cobble me

lights, shiny bright

stepping stones–

a path to roam

up in the night,

past the moon

and her humming tune,

lightly skip

through Pleiades–

those starry seas–

make this road

wide enough for two,

and when through,

we’ll turn around

homeward bound.

 

 

 

This is for dVerse, where De Jackson (aka Whimsy Gizmo) has asked us to write a quadrille, a poem of 44 words, using the word cobble.

 

Girl in the Rain–Quadrille

Such rainy rain

fell–

dropped

for days it plopped,

then finally stopped,

so she could play

in shiny coat and

rubber boots,

skipping and prancing

and stomping and splashing

into those puddles

dashing–

Asked why, she replied

to step into the rainbows,

hiding inside.

 

 

Embed from Getty Images

 

 

This is a quadrille for dVerse, where Kim has asked us to write a poem about rain.

I’m getting sick of rain and writing about rain, but then I remembered a recent conversation I had with one of my now-grown daughters.

Muddled–Quadrille

Muddle my mind

with syllables that sing

the zing of spring.

(Fevered believer.)

Befuddle me with blackholes and space–

see the moon’s humming face,

timeless, timebound,

her fullness, lost and found.

There the dying star

glowing from afar,

it’s unmuddled light,

clear, still bright.

Morning Moon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A quadrille for dVerse, where De Jackson (aka Whimsy Gizmo) has asked us to use the word muddle.