The Immigrants: Quadrille

They journeyed–

sharing quarters with livestock

and worldly goods,

battered and buffeted

by wind and waves,

sailing through salt spray

under sun and shimmering stars,

the ship a speck in the vast sea-space

rocked them

sometimes gently, sometimes furiously,

rocked them into the unknown

 

This is a quadrille for dVerse. The prompt was “rock.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Silvered Dust of Time and Space: Quadrille and Yeats Challenge, Day 7

I’ve combined a quadrille for dVerse (using some form of the word kick), and a poem for Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats Challenge, Day 7. Today’s quotation:

 ‘…stars, grown old

In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,

Sing in their high and lonely melody.’

 

In the nighttime sea,

the stars sing–

ringing bells in the sky,

they fly,

ensorcelling with their melodies.

Kicking and dancing in twinkling splendor,

they blaze, then die.

Yet their light,

not erased

shimmers faintly in the night,

silvered dust of time and space.

Józef_Chełmoński_-_Noc_gwiaździsta

Józef Marian Chełmoński [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

 

 

The Dancers: Quadrille

The house was softly lit

the couple danced and flit

in waltzing rhythm, with delight

till late at night

(as in the past)

up the creaking stairs, they went

content–

no matter that long ago, they’d died,

love is here, the house still sighed

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This is a quadrille for dVerse. The prompt word was creak. I wrote this last night, but at 4 A.M. or so I was awakened by the house creaking from the wind storm we’re having now in anticipation of the rain that’s coming soon. It was creepy walking out in the dark this morning to get the newspaper. This creepy creaking might inspire a less gentle poem.

 

Hope: Quadrille

Is it hopeless to feel hope

in the light of dawn,

or when the moon hums

her gentle song?

In the ash-filled skies

do hopeful spirits fly,

or earth-bound are they buried

in sorrow unvariegated?

Tomorrow will hope soar–

that thing with feathers, evermore?

 

Hellbrunn_Schloss_-_Festsaal_Fresken_Decke_3b

 

This quadrille is for dVerse. The prompt was any form of the word, “hope.”

 

From the Remains of the Day

From the remains of the day

the Harvest Moon rises resplendent

Diana, the light-bearer, lingers,

glowing

reapers gather grains

sustaining bodies and souls

embracing,

creating life–

Diana hums,

the tune echoes in a mother’s lullaby

(unaware of wars and strife)

babies sleep in peace

512px-George_Mason_-_The_Harvest_Moon_-_Google_Art_Project

George Hemming Mason, “The Harvest Moon,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

This is a quadrille for the dVerse Open Link Night. I’ve paid tribute (tried to) to both the Harvest Moon and Kazuo Ishiguro, who won this year’s Nobel Prize in literature, announced yesterday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tasting Traditions: Quadrille

Long ago,

a Moroccan woman made soup like this,

in Mediterranean climes

stirred spices into her pot

(here mirroring Autumn leaves)

cinnamon red and saffron gold

yellow split peas and pumpkin,

symbols of success, simmering,

signaling the turning of seasons

tasting sweetly of tradition

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Pumpkin-Yellow Split Pea Soup

This is a quadrille for dVerse. Mish asked us to use the word spice—or some form of it.

I make this soup every year for Rosh Hashanah—though we’re having it a bit late this year. It’s based on a recipe from Claudia Roden, a Moroccan soup. Mine is vegetarian and spicier.  The golden color is supposed to symbolize a prosperous new year. The photo is from last year’s dinner.

 

 

Dream a Dream

Dream a little dream of me

as starlight blooms, high in the sky

the tears, I see,

are now wiped dry,

the night birds call from sycamore trees

sleep now, my love, sweet lullaby,

dream of me, body free,

but spirit hovering, still nearby

john_everett_millais_the_somnambulist

 

So, this actually fits two dVerse prompts. De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo, asked us to write a quadrille using the prompt dream. 

Mish asked for a poem using a verse from a song.  For some reason, the dream prompt made me think of this song. I’m wondering if I’ve heard it recently on a soundtrack.

Here’s Ella Fitzgerald singing “Dream a Little Dream of Me” (with Louis Armstrong).

 

I often use song lines as prompts in my Monday Morning Musings, and I know I’ll be writing more about dreams, but this is what I have for now.

The Scent of Wonder: Quadrille

The child peppered the sky with questions,

Why do my tears and the ocean taste salty?

Why does this plant taste like lemon,

but my cat smells like nutmeg?

A moon-breeze carried the scent of roses and wonder–

she understood then, everything is connected.

 

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This is for dVerse. Kim has asked us to write a quadrille using some form of the word pepper in honor of the 50th Anniversary of the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

 

 

 

Another Storm

 

Ancient songs

drifting through space,

invisible

indivisible

immutable

(listen)

above,

just out of reach

but there,

part of the universe

unhurried

unvarying in variation

we—

poor devils—

do you hear?

(listen again)

the storm is coming

when it clears

hear the stars

calling you

 

Another storm quadrille, using Secret Keeper’s words: Above/Ancient/Part/Devil/Poor

I’m wondering if there’s storm coming today in D.C.