Against an Aubergine Sky

“Oh girl among the roses, oh crush of doves, oh fortress of fishes and rosebushes, your soul is a bottle filled with thirsty salt, and your skin, a bell filled with grapes.”- Ode with a Lament, Pablo Neruda

My heart shines bright
Like a burnished peach rose
As each velvet petal unfolds
This life we have together
Sparkles in stark repose
Against an aubergine sky
Breath-stopping colors as I cry
Out your precious name
Setting my soul aflame
With your fiery eyes

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poets Pub: Quadrille #134: We {Heart} Poems

haunting Echo

“glass will cut you every day, and sometimes you will crawl through hell

to feel the sun.” ― Ben Ditmars

Indigo twilight slides in with stealthy whispers 
While waning candlelight flames tremble and waver 
The jade bottle is empty and the crystal glass heavy

Closing ocean wave eyes, my dream memories come alive
Of fresh rain on rugged mountains, red fire in western sky
When we held each other close on a cold stormy night

The rough brush of hardened hands against silken skin
Running calloused fingers over my silken thighs
The haunting echo of youthful love back then, back when

We were whole, our souls an inner smoldering light
Of fresh rain on rugged mountains, red fire in western sky
When we held each other close on a cold stormy night

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

The Sunday Muse #174

Transcendence

“How does the ordinary person come to the transcendent? For a start, I would say, study poetry. Learn how to read a poem. You need not have the experience to get the message, or at least some indication of the message. It may come gradually. (92)” 

― Joseph Campbell, Thou Art That: Transforming Religious Metaphor

When spirit transcends the gossamer veil
My naked soul shows no remorse or shame
I’ll chase black crows in my wandering dreams
When clay and flowers murmur my sacred name

No way to know when the lightness will come
Soaring in a starry sky on diamond moonbeams
When clay and flowers murmur my sacred name
I’ll chase black crows in my wandering dreams

No worries of the past, no dreams of tomorrow
Elusive scent of jasmine sets my heart aflame  
I’ll chase black crows in my wandering dreams
When clay and flowers murmur my sacred name

And once the last sough of breath is released
I’ll float high above in calming turquoise streams
When clay and flowers murmur my sacred name
I’ll chase black crows in my wandering dreams

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poets Pub: Mirrored Refrain

Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years and their latest rescue, Jackson “Jax” Lyberg. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at: charmedchaos.com and view anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page

Rare Gift From The Rain

Rain Lilies in my Garden- Mesa, AZ

Every cloud has a silver lining.- English Proverb

Pushing up through water logged earth, 
Long emerald leaves bowing from 
The ponderous weight of heavy rain 
Tender shoots absorb precious water, 
Creating buds that soon will bloom
Filling the weary water-starved garden
With a delightful miraculous sight
Of delicate painted pink beauties  
As dainty rain lilies blossom
In a fairy-like abundant array
Delighting glistening tear-drenched eyes
With a rare gift from the onslaught of rain

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poetics: The Proverbial

Stream of Dreams

With heavy eyes drifting away
floating on the stream of dreams
where bright sunshine warms her wrinkled face
and life is buoyant and carefree
No worries from the past as the present unfolds,
a glimpse through bright eyes of youth
behind eyes of old

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poets Pub: Quadrille No. 132- Stream

Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years and their latest rescue, Jackson “Jax” Lyberg. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at: charmedchaos.com and view anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page

Life Path: No.1

“Tonight started innocently enough. Most terrible things do, right?” 

― Suzanne Hayes, I’ll Be Seeing You

Left to disintegrate and fade away, a reminder of her youth
when innocence was torn asunder in one surreptitious act
A swift path to dutiful adulthood way before her time
A child raising a child with no one to guide her
A frail body changing with an alien growing inside
As she stumbles towards motherhood, terrified

With each day comes regretful tears and inner turmoil
Struggling with her thrust upon role
As a new mother and shotgun wife-
Being wholly responsible for another fragile life
Living in a nightmare where she became embroiled
In a web of insanity, and almost lost her precious soul

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

Written for The Sunday Muse #170 where Shay is hosting.

Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years and their latest rescue, Jackson “Jax” Lyberg. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at: charmedchaos.com and view anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page

Nettie’s Downfall

Image by JamesDeMers from Pixabay

Nettie lives in Bayou Sorrell on the edge of the Atchafalaya Basin. The house is nothing more than a shack put together with a rusted tin roof. In the early years before her daddy took to drinking, he added on a screened porch. Nettie spent most nights sleeping out there listening to the sounds of the bayou.

Everyone is gone now; first her ma died and then her pa drunk himself to death grieving her. Nettie had no one else in the world. Every morning she hopped in her old motorboat and headed to the oysterbeds.

Gliding through the brackish water, she gazes up at the blue sky and sees a great blue heron in flight. Tears spill down her sweaty cheeks.
“Enough! No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.”
She jumps into the water.

©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poets Pub: Prosery Finding Miss Zora Neal Hurston

Author’s Note: Lisa is hosting Prosery and has asked us to use the following line in a fiction piece consisting of 144 words or less. My story is 144 words. Here is the line were were given: No, I do not weep at the world- I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife. –Zora Neale Hurston, from “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me” in World Tomorrow (1928)

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