Falling Stars

The child presses her face against the window glass

watching as the sun sinks into the sea

and the first stars appear in the sky.

She makes a wish as one streaks, burns, and falls

vanishing like her neighbors.

(“Poor things,” her mother had said

seeing their yellow stars.)

She wonders if they will send her a postcard

from wherever they are,

and if she can change her wish–

to see them again,

the doctor with the kind eyes

and his daughters with their long, silver hair

who had played with her.

 

The child, older now, presses her face against the window glass

and watches the stars in the sky

the bombs silenced,

she hears a song murmured by the wind

singing to her of hope and dreams,

bittersweet, like chocolate she remembers,

she sees streams of starlight

sowing dreams in sparkling silver waves,

thinks of her long-ago wish

and knows—somehow– it will come true.

Star Sower by Hai Knafo, Wikipedia Commons

 

This is for Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt.  The prompt words were:

| APPEAR | PRESS | POOR | CARD | FALL |

 

Star Spirit: Haibun

 

I am born with the stars, but I have always been. From a shadow world and through a smoky veil, I emerge, a shimmering spirit. A bang, a flash, and the universe expands, pitch-black, but filigreed with radiance. I skim the waves of space and time and dance to the humming music of the cosmos. Wherever I go, I leave a glow, light in the darkness. I travel in loops and streams, in and out of umbras, always and forever. See me, that flicker in the night sky–there and gone.

 

star spirit shimmers

darting, dancing joyfully

gilding the darkness

circling round suns, moons, and stars,

constant, timeless, eternal

 

Attributed to Carl Schweninger der Jüngere, “Morgenstern,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

This haibun is for Colleen Chesebro’s weekly poetry challenge.  The prompt words were smoke and veil.

 

 

Assume the Joy

Assume the world’s full of joy,

not hate,

stare at birds,

wonder at our fate

and if we’ll mind what happens after–

“the late”

they’ll call us,

if not the great–

but we’ll be gone,

beings that are not immortal

(unless time folds–perhaps a portal?)

and so, we shouldn’t hesitate

just assume the joy

of stars and earth

of moons that hum with charming mirth

then laugh, my dear–

no, stop, wait

—listen

there–the robin on the garden gate

I needed a poetry break this afternoon!

This is for Secret Keeper’s Challenge.

The prompt words were: Assume/Mind/Late/Being/Stare

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

Stars and Spring: NaPoWriMo

Spring meander,

goose and gander

sit on their nest

take turns then rest,

lilac scents the air

children play, feet bare

without a care,

each laughing cry

floats to the sky

twinkling bright

in the night,

the goosey pair

now aware

honk and stare,

look with delight

at sparkling light

dancing, giggling in the night

 

Canada Geese by the Delaware River, Red Bank Battlefield, National Park, NJ

 

This is Day 28, NaPoWriMo. We’re asked to write a poem in Skeltonic verse. The form is named for English poet John Skelton (c. 1463 – 21 June 1529). It is also called Tumbling verse.

Star and Moon Sky: NaPoWriMo

 

 

 

Do you remember? We watched the clouds fly across that June sky,

wondering about our lives, watching that black-blue sky.

 

It was long ago, we were full of life, in blazing afternoon sky,

and two hearts keeping time, beating under the moon, June sky.

 

We pledged our love before our family and friends, a noon, June sky,

Settling-in to life together, playful, joyous, a spoon and swoon sky.

 

We grew older, not necessarily wiser, encountering an out-of-tune sky,

yet I’d not change it, not at all, not even for a jewel-strewn sky

 

The jewels are here and there, you see, felt and heard in the moon-croon sky,

the moments, still, we gaze and share. (Do you remember? )There, that star and moon sky.

 

This is a ghazal for today’s (Day 13) NaPoWriMo.   I can’t get the formatting right, but they are couplets with some long lines. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love Whispered: A Quadrille

Once, long ago, love whispered in her ear,

sibylline secrets,

and she had dreamed,

heard the stars sing,

she remembered–

though her skin now ivory crepe

once glowed pink, luminous–

come, love, I’m tired,

she sighs,

then goes.

Forever, she dances amidst the stars.

 

This is for dVerse. The prompt was the word “whisper.”

 

 

Stardust: A Quadrille

Winter winds lash the trees,

the clouds sail, schooners

on an obsidian sea,

shimmering stars, sparkling dots,

pulsing to music of the universe,

echoed in our beating hearts–

stardust,

remnants of other worlds

gone for a millennium,

here in your arms curled around me.

 

 

 

I’ve never written a quadrille, but I was intrigued by the idea–a poem of 44 words exactly. This is for dVerse, and we were to use the word “curl” in the poem.

The Angel’s Voice

 

Embed from Getty Images

 

 

In the dark of winter night

speaks the angel, fierce but sweetly,

singing in a voice commanding,

crying in a voice demanding,

with caramel breath and radiant light,

shimmering and glimmering like the star

shining, pulsing, glowing bright

twinkling, twinkling from afar,

resplendent, lustrous, but not so cheery,

brilliant, dazzling, then her query–

Why do you fight and foster hate?

Why do you listen to lies, then wait

for signs and words and soothing vows?

Don’t you sense that something’s wrong,

that freedom and choice will soon be gone?

The sun will rise on empty space

where earth once was, but now no trace,

so, light the candles and ring the bells

wreathe the doors with evergreen boughs,

but call for love and fight for right,

prevent the waning of the light.

Then she vanishes, darkness returns,

we search for angels, and the candle burns.

 

This is for Secret Keeper’s Writing Challenge.

 

The prompt words were:

Sense/Fight/Free/Voice/Choose

Happy Holidays!  Wishing all of you light in the darkness and peace, and joy in the new year.

 

 

 

The Splendor of Light

By Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons

 

She laughs and flames shoot from her chariot

moving through the sky. She will carry it,

(the splendor of light), and with lariat

she’ll rein in her gilded steeds, ferry it,

the glow, from dawn to dusk with merry wit.

 

She brings joy, life, pulses to beautify.

Her companion stars though, she sees them cry,

their tears shoot out, then streak across the sky.

Still she laughs, shares her light, as she rides by.

Someday she’ll fade, turn black–and then she’ll sigh.

 

This is a response of sorts to Jane Dougherty’s non-challenge.

Jane found the rather strange image above. It’s supposed to be a sunspot, and it comes from an 1898 book called The Story of the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars. I started thinking about sunspots, and then this story that I read recently about an unusual star that pulses and behaves erratically. I started thinking about what could cause this, and naturally I concluded the star pulses when it laughed. In honor of Jane, the poem is two stanzas of her Fifty Poetry Form (Does that make it a one hundred?): five lines of ten syllables each, with the last word of each line rhyming.