Everything's Confetti

Photo by Brooke Lark on Unsplash

Yesterday was truly the same as today

I saw you then; I see you now

Yet yesterday was a plain vanilla day

And everything’s confetti and sprinkles now

Then - you were with me, now inside me

A tiny matter, not hefty at all

You are still you, I am still me

Yet the stars shine brighter one and all

Somewhere in time’s curious clockwork

You and me become always together us

It really didn’t take much work

Just a lifelong labour from both of us

Yesterday was really just where today left off

In an explosion of fireworks as life takes off

Naught

Photo by Liana Mikah on Unsplash

In the nothingness

Absence

Floats gently

Without a trace

It curves without lines

Coming up empty

Whistling through the void

Soundless and blank

Sleep Sheep

Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash

Curly-horned sheep

Gently sweep

Stardust that seeps

In silver heaps

Of sandy steeps

And when children peep

They bound and leap

Until little eyes fall back to sleep

Directions

Photo by Brianna Santellan on Unsplash

This way to your life, my friend

Go straight three blocks to the bend

Turn left there and slowly wend - 

No! Not to the right, come back!

Didn’t you hear a word I said?

Don’t you see this map I’ve got?

Better follow it to the end.

But now since you’re at the beach

To keep life’s goals within your reach

Go buy a ticket for the boat,

The boat I said, not the ferry!

No one gets anywhere on a ferry!

Once you’re there don’t set up camp

Don’t you know what the weather’s like?

Oh, very clever, you’ve brought a tent

A sleeping bag, a camera, and a lamp

But listen, you can’t stay here

You’ve got to live your life my dear!

And yet you’re living without a map

How do you do it without mishap?

This is not to say that all life advice should be ignored. But I'm sure we all have people in our lives who wonder if we even know where we're going.

Written for the Poetics Aside prompt Dicrections.

Shared with dVerse.

Monster Recipe

Photo by Calum Lewis on Unsplash

1 pound of paws

2 large wings

A handful of fangs

4 sets of claws

A tail that stings

Mix together and set aside along with tears the maidens cried.

1 cup of fear firmly packed

Blood and guts to taste

A dash of salt 

2 tablespoons hatred extract

1 spoonful bone paste

Lump it together and let it congeal until it has a viscous feel. Then pour it on top of the things set aside and wait for it to smell like an army died. Then into the heat for thirteen months and a day then it’s fully complete. 

Eats whole villages and shining knights too. If you aren’t careful, it might eat you.

Whisking Wings

Photo by Scott Johnson on Unsplash

The chickadees sing

as above they wing

and flip

like a tight box spring

in their joyous fling

they zip

with ardor and zing

through the air they swing

and skip.

Waiting

Photo by Miguel Maldonado on Unsplash

She plucked the long awaited fruit

Watched the buds appear and grow

The leaves spread out wide and green

Branches climbing through the sky

Slim stem broadening to solid trunk

Sapling rising shyly up

A tiny shoot, burst of green

Soil over the seed set in earth

She made room for the tree

The Fairy Godmother Has Her Say

Photo by Alex Hudson on Unsplash

It’s just as hard these days

The application process has changed

That’s all

Oh yes, please sit down

Fill out your name and address

Hobbies, griefs, and anguish

I’ll see what I can do

No, Ella didn’t have it easy

Scrubbing and washing and hoping

Dreaming of something better

When every door is closed -

Well, you know about that

Yes, I wave my magic wand

A dress like the sun

Silver shoes

Pumpkins become carriages

(For you, a scholarship)

But Arthur didn’t love the dress

He fell in love with her

The story skips how much they talked

Of history, dreams, and law

(If Ella were you, she’d be a lawyer,

But she lived then, not now)

I gave the opportunity

She did the rest

For you, four years of collage

Two more of grad school

Opportunity, all on you

Ella still doesn’t have it easy

(You won’t either)

You see, no one gets her name right

Her stepsisters left that mark on her

Better? Of course it’s better

Just not easy

Written for dVerse.

Lofty

Photo by Jordan Steranka on Unsplash

Dawn emerges from the mount

Ready for the climb of day

Across the spires of the sky

To soaring heights ascending

Swelling above beyond the clouds

And when it reaches the highest rise

Gently sinking slowly down

Back to earth from whence it sprouted

   

   

   

Written for dVerse.

Spring has Come

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Violets are dancing

Pansies too

Daffodils trumpet

Long and loud

Of spring’s arrival

With pizzazz

And plenty of style

Rain-light

Photo by guy stevens on Unsplash

in the rain-light

splattering rays

fall down on sprouting

umbrellas that bloom 

and grow,

dancing flowers

unfurling wings

and taking flight

sending a rainbow to the sky

In the Kitchen

Photo by Andy Chilton on Unsplash

plum pudding does not steam itself

does not mix together the flour

or orange zest, or cinnamon,

the raisins, the nuts, the plums

that smell like Christmas

vegan cheese does not spring from cashews

fully formed, ready for plucking

there is soaking, and blending

and nutritional yeast

also, salt and garlic powder

and they do not measure themselves

nor does dinner call you to the table

laid out with dinner forks and salad forks

and knives and soup bowls and goblets

and places for desert

breakfast and lunch 

also take no  thought for themselves

so I take thought for them all

for the two hours of plum pudding

for the laying away of cashews

for the dinner and the breakfast and the lunch

I have but one complaint

the dishes do not wash themselves

Book

Photo by Kimberly Farmer on Unsplash

Book: noun

1. Pages and leather sewn together

    - Pick up the book and take a look.

2. More than paper, it’s a door

    - Worlds bitter and sweet that breathe and beat.

3. A steadfast window of the past

    - Ancient lore, lost no more.

Synonym: a novel way to spend the day

Night-Shepherd

Photo by James & Carol Lee on Unsplash

In the moon-blown breeze where the winged-fox plays

Stars are water-spoken, reflecting back pearly rays

The scythe-eyed owl keeps watch by the bell-voiced clock

Over the squeaking-whiskered shadow-quick mouse flock

Written for dVerse.

Dancing Kite

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Up against the wind

The kite hangs pinned

Dancing in the sky

It climbs up high

Soaring above the clouds

Losing sight of the crowds

Greeting flying fairies

Up were it’s airy

Oh wouldn’t it be grand

To stay up there in fairy land?

Wake Up Call

Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Unsplash

The clap of thunder

Dissonance

Natural alarm clock

Thyme

Photo by Gabriel Jimenez on Unsplash

she planted a garden of many hues

to weed and to hoe

reaping and gathering

what her own fingers grew

peaches, raspberries and sage

pumpkins, garlic, lettuce and tomatoes

basil and mint and rosemary

for she has time

and bliss

To the Cheese

Photo by Lindsay Moe on Unsplash

Said the mouse to the cheese

Come walk with me please

We’ll find us some hazel nuts

Fallen down from the trees

And we’ll frolic in the breeze

With apricots, and jam, and dates

Then home we’ll fly with these

Where with crackers and delectable cold cuts

You’ll grace my gourmet plate

Unseen Ember

Photo by Stacey Gabrielle Koenitz Rozells on Unsplash

somewhere in the night

through the misty gloom

an unseen ember scintillates

wandering ghostlike

there comes a soundless tune

somewhere in the night

buried in ashes something quakes

nearly ready to fly the coup

the reddened ember scintillates

until at last the winged guide

bursts forth with mighty swoosh

somewhere in the night

hope filled serenades

sparkle like tiny crystal cubes

while reddened feathers scintillate

through every field of strife

turn upwards to the heavens

somewhere in the night

the blazing phoenix scintillates

Written for dVerse.

Defined

Harp: noun

1. Stringed instrument plucked by fingers 

    - Sweet notes echo long, begging me to stay and linger like a fairy’s beguiling song.

    - May I ever lift my voice each day with the harp in dulcet lays.

2. Musician’s soul

    - An aria in every breath and strings that make me whole, transcending even timeless death.

    - An immortal rhyme that opens portals of harmonies sublime.

    - A stunning debut of forgotten things that still ring true.

Synonym: a wild hymn, a golden lyre, a soul that sings with fire