
“Sourire” by Corinne Romand Maitrepierre
crinkled crow’s feet
mark a penchant for laughter
wealth in the creases
(originally posted January 2014)
“Sourire” by Corinne Romand Maitrepierre
crinkled crow’s feet
mark a penchant for laughter
wealth in the creases
(originally posted January 2014)
“Fancy Dress Dinner Party” by Charles S. Ricketts
(Originally posted February 2014)
joys are public things
worn like clothes to be admired
veiling private pains
“Bride and Groom” by Sali Swalla
commitment is easy on the voice
hardly straining the tongue
barely trembling the lips
but once spoken
ineluctably alters the arc of a life
from the sound of small words
come corporeal large obligations
within beating flesh of the heart
no light fancy attends
the articulate promise
but oh what sheer joy is in store
for its diligent keeping of faith
“Cynics” by Tom Fedro
when did the laughter die
nothing funny to tickle the heart
or lift the face into a smile
unamused by the defects of age
in a world grown so solemn
it chokes sense of humor
what day did the cynic arise
with an eyeful of unhappy tears
belly bittered by uprising bile
mirth a memory cobwebbed
a rattling dry empty husk
figment of distance from youth
where hides the joy with its
shudders of pleasure at being alive
perhaps it was all an illusion
From my book Human Waters
“Birds of a Feather” by Candace French
the blacks and the reds
coexist in high greenery
flying these deep forest spaces
swift power and grace
in their unerring motion
creating an airborne ballet
of affinitive natural society
big and brash small and sweet
living life with deliberate joy
going on with their business
in view of my fortunate windows
unaware of my yearning
to join them and feel I have
purpose and wings of my own
From my book Onionskin
“Sunny Day After Van Gogh” from Pinterest
a saturday sun
set in brilliant blue sky
suggests leisure
a time for deep breathing
a fresh air elixir
inebriant warmth
heightens senses
to crosstalk of
birdsong in so many
languages greenery
cast in so many
bright shades
piquant smells of a
garden trade off
with more earthy
aromas of freshly
turned loam a slow
wander in woods
where the scurry of
chittering critters
at play brings a
smile contented
with aimlessness
carnally vivid with joy
nothing pressing
demands or a duty
just free as the breeze
light and airy of heart
burdens lifted away
a luxurious absence
of misery’s pain
a reward for the spirit
a day to remember
to savor if only a
figment imagined
by one very wounded
and weary old mind
From my book Small Noise
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...