Virgin shrouds Mourning wombs Innocence cut short Parents' lap Empty broken Shoulders weary Eyes weighed Bullets strayed Nameless assail Hopes frail. When bombs fly And sirens cry Children cannot defy They wonder if they Will live to see Another dawn Play and run all day long And they wonder What the fighting is all about?
Danseuse
Waltzing through air, this vision with beguiling delicate grace
Like a danseuse figure, poised, carving delicate grace.
A breeze gently embraces this fragile creature
touching nimble limbs, a limber accentuating delicate grace.
Sunlight streams iridescent on her lissome stance
symmetrically lithe and supple, flaunting delicate grace.
Rhythmic movements pattern fawn colored sand creations
nudging grass beneath, with a soothing delicate grace.
The boundless energy of this dainty, flighty antelope
as she ambulates gracefully, epitomizing, delicate grace.
Elusive, mysterious, uninhibited, she basks in nature’s fold
within a cosmos, spangled with, pleasing, delicate grace.
Her vulnerability fills me with foreboding and much fear
of bloodthirsty predators, massacring delicate grace.
Finding The Rhyme
I send my words into the sky Watch them rhyme and then fly. I close my eyes and feel the air Forgotten words lost without care. I take the letters in my hand And put them on a poetic stand. I scribe the words on a starlit scroll Watch words take shape as night unfolds. My dreams drift from a soul that bleeds In the blue of ink, fractured lines freed. I run my hands over my words My fingers feel the emotions stirred. With tender ease, the poetry glides From my page to your eyes.
Moonchild
I am a child of the earth
Raised by the stars in the sky
Tended by the moon as I sleep
Scars of the world clothe me
Her wounds rich in history.
I am bathed by the tears of the clouds
When it rains, the wind howls-in my ears
Apocalyptic....
When I cry-the earth soaks up my tears
A piece of my soul
Turning to dust;
And like dust, I rise
A storm of stardust
On moonstruck madness..
The sky calls out my name at dawn
Sparking the sun on my breast..
I am a child of the earth
The darkness and the light
The truth, the lie
Sorrow and joy
It's all there in the
Pen that I wield.
#free verse
Idiolect
Somewhere
Between
The silence
And the pause
I try to find the words
I write a love letter to Cupid
My
Syllables
All
Wrong.
Poet And Muse
I write from my soul to yours I undress my heart to show you my scars. Crimson-tinged words need no pages Scattering into synapse spaces. The pain spills as blood blue ink Dipped in the inkwell of syllabic sync. Hold my words close to your heart They are my soul's oxygen chart. I am a poet who paints with her pen To frame my page with your name again and again.
Magnolia Reveries
Alphabets become jeweled figurines
Like studded stars drip-dropping
Sparkling confetti on a magnolia vignette…
I sit in quiet solitude breathing in the solace of sepia memories…crocheting a borealis in my solstice day
Syllables of Monet flame
A potpourri of poesies
Galaxy’s champagne
Serenades my rosette fire
Kaleidoscopic eloquence
Needling a mantle of chrome waltzes
A phonographic euphoria
Etching a musky interlude
Of shared tears
Radiating scarlet of an Amaryllis quill…
Magnolia Reveries
Alphabets become jeweled figurines
Like studded stars drip-dropping
Sparkling confetti on a magnolia vignette...
I sit in quiet solitude breathing in the solace of sepia memories...crocheting a borealis in my solstice day
Syllables of Monet hues flame
A potpourri of poesies
Galaxy's champagne
Serenades my rosette fire
Kaleidoscopic eloquence
Needling a mantle of chrome waltzes
A phonographic euphoria
Etching a musky interlude
Of shared tears
Radiating scarlet of an Amaryllis quill...
Along Came A Spider
Along came a spider An eight legged rider. In her web, I espied a fly Other insects came to say goodbye. The spider's sting operation Causing pain sensation. Spidey's silken seduction Makes no cause for affection. An intrepid with her labyrinth Her stealth is her fingerprint. She never trips in her net Her web is her bayonet. She walks and stalks a silky trail Rigging a web to catch the frail. Spiders are seen and never heard They wield a most unlikely sword.
Poetry: The perfect noun
If I had wings to fly I would go to the scarlet moon On the wings of a diamond night Trying to live again Because the poet in me cannot die I would go in search of my muse I would go in search of eternity.. Under an ancient sky That spills the sun in my hair Wildflowers in my eyes Poetry on my lips When the wind sings on my skin Broken heartstrings kindle a lilt Clouds weep into the blue My soul goes sleepless As the moon and sun wake together Feeding my soul with ink In a silence that goes ballistic A quill that needs to be tranquilized I idolize thoughts that spring From poetry.. My mind stops hurting I crash my hourglass..
Moonbeams dance
moonbeams dance on my pillow this unknown summer night venus blooms like cereus in an ebony sky a hushed wind carries My dreams to you I pick up my pen...
Persimmon Blues
Summer skies melt
into honeyed persimmon…
I doze off into a
tangerine , sherbet night
Dew-laced
Night’s dream dew-laced in dawn’s light
In the luminescence of a tear’s essence
Stars’ crystal lustre pales afore sun’s might
I surrender to the tenderness of their iridescence
To decode interlude of perceptions to make sense
I lay my soul bare in the palette of dyes
As starlight fades in the anthem of birds
I quiet the tears that rise in my eyes
To paint pages with words that can be heard
Lines rise in rhythm, waiting to be savoured.
# Choka
Softly, They Shine
Starry night brings delight
How I love the stars’ light
Shimmering, glittering, bright
Twinkling like sapphires
Scintillating and shining
Like lanterns glowing
Through the darkness igniting
Dreams that keep showing.
# Trochee
Magnolia Reveries
Magnolia Reveries
https://yassy66.wordpress.com/2020/07/18/magnolia-reveries-2/
— Read on yassy66.wordpress.com/2020/07/18/magnolia-reveries-2/
Mayday
Come,talk to me
there’s always poetry
when you enter my thoughts
#haiga
Aglow
Irises gleam
A moonbeam falls
Jasmines sashay
Scenting the air
Lush blooms bare pale
And flare in gloam
Crepuscule fire
Burns sapphire bright
Desire ignite.
# Than-Bauk
Pit Stop
I refuel my limbs
in the emptiness of
an existential cul-de-sac
like written lyrics
of a platinum record
that need a voice to sing
to cry
taking that ride
the highway is my guide
windswept jackrabbit
on time borrowed time
I foot the pedal
stay in my lane
wait for a pit stop
to come my way again .
B Positive
B positive:
the flow of hope
in my veins
Golden Crepuscule
Golden crepuscule;
just when I thought that
life had lost its magic
Meditating A Verse
Out of my mind
that seeks
vowels and consonants
metaphors, similes
in my fingers knowing
when the nib moves to write
my hands a beryl hue
dipped in the inkwell of my soul
in all forms the shades of blue
clematis and Tanzanite within my breath
the shape of thoughts…fluid
I’ll drink to ‘what mood to write’
To my pen dreaming a new verse into a waiting page. .
yaskhan 
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