Wild the owl that hoots at night,
wild the fawn that gambols from my sight,
wild the wind that blows from other lands,
and wild the waves that lap the sand,
wild the lightning in the sky—
and wild the thunder echoes. . . asking why?
A rhyming quadrille for dVerse, where Kim has asked us to use the word, “wild.”
The roaring wind
blows my love
away from me he goes
far off on the sea
to war, to adventure,
to find a better life
he leaves family,
his love, his wife,
a centuries-old tale.
Will he return? When?
The wind only roars again.
I felt the need for a bit of poetry before I start work today, so this late response to Monday’s dVerse prompt. De asked us to use the word roar in a quadrille—a poem of exactly 44 words. We’re expecting roaring winds here today, but for some reason I thought of the move Atlantics, which we saw on Netflix not too long ago (mentioned in one of my Musings.) It was made and set in Senegal, and it won a prize at Cannes.
Moonglow and star shimmer
light the travelers on their way.
Candlelight in windows flicker
a signal, a sign—
here we hold darkness at bay
for minutes, hours, days
as lovers embrace and sway,
finding freedom–a miracle
some might say
light comes to stay.
I’m so totally procrastinating today, so why not write another poem? Here’s a quadrille for dVerse,where Lillian is hosting. She asks us to use the word glow.
North wind blows
gusting. Bustling
come the spirits
past and future here
carrying scents of cinnamon,
and good cheer, meeting, greeting
dreams, desires—
they swirl, cross-sweeping
without hurry, but you scurry
because the world seems blurry
till you wake–settled–somehow—
allow the now.
A bit of fun for dVerse, where De has asked us to write a quadrille using the word spirit.
Source: The Youth’s Book on Natural Theology, 1840
First a rumble
grumbling in the night,
then a crack, the light
jagged and brightly-white
zig-zagging, where the kite
with hemp strands and key
conducts electricity–
a sight to see,
but from afar—
(check the jar)
this experiment of wonder,
science, lighting, and thunder.
A quadrille (a poem of 44 words) for dVerse where De asked us to use the word “crack.” If you don’t know anything about Benjamin Franklin’s experiment, here are the details from the Franklin Institute—it includes a passage from his article in the Pennsylvania Gazette. He actually electrified the hemp from the charged air, not directly from the lightning, but poetic license. 😉
Timekeepers,
sun and moon
rise and set
and we forget
that we move, too,
revolving on our small blue dot
sailing through each day, not
knowing where we’ll dock
or when time’s clock
will stop its ticking-tock–
but then light bends,
it never ends.
This is for yesterday’s dVerse prompt, where Kim asked us to write a quadrille (a poem of 44 words) using the word keep.
William Heritage Winery
Workday chores set down,
the sun sinks low, birds take wing,
stars soon appear to glimmer and sing
songs drifting over gleaming river
and sleepy town
to me and you, the sound
of nature, moon hums a chorus–
and so, night passes before us.
I’m hosting dVerse today. We’re writing quadrilles, using the word, “set.” Come join us!
Hubble Space Telescope-Image of Supernova 1994D (SN1994D) in galaxy NGC 4526 (SN 1994D is the bright spot on the lower left). NASA/ESA, The Hubble Key Project Team and The High-Z Supernova Search Team
Twinkle, bang—a star explodes, sending its dust into space. We’re made of that dust, ephemeral and eternal. Everything connected, nothing ever truly extinct. Listen—
stars shimmer and sing
treble and bass symphony,
bestowing beauty
in bright notes of stellar light
tumbling into space
At dVerse, Linda has asked us to use the word “extinction” (or some form of the word) in a quadrille, a poem of 44 words. The extra challenge is not to discuss climate change.
This is a haibun tanka quadrille. Maybe a haibun tanka is not a thing, but oh well. I’ve also used synonyms for fall and give for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge. I was joking with someone about stars “singing,” but here’s an article about the sounds they make.
I look at the painting. Is it a lesson about hubris? Or that children must make their own mistakes? All I see is father and son, horror and grief.
and now your feathers
nicked and torn, you soared too close
bewitched by the sun
A haibun quadrille (a poem of 44 words) for dVerse, where De has asked us to use the word “nick.” And also, for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, using synonyms for enchant and fly.
“Earthrise” Taken by Apollo 8 crewmember Bill Anders on December 24, 1968
A sea
but no water,
a desert place,
a silvered space–
could it ever feel tranquil?
In solitude, we kick
no dust
no cloud forming
no sunrise warming
but the blue planet
dawning
over a curved horizon–
surprising, stirring,
yet insignificant—
except to us.
Lillian has asked us to write a quadrille (a poem of 44 words) using the word tranquility or some form of the word for dVerse. I love the word, though I haven’t felt too much tranquility lately. Yesterday afternoon, the Oracle whispered “Sea of Tranquility” to me.
