Just a Trace

As your lips trace my pulsing heart
down to my ample breasts,
please don’t stop there my love
continue on your quest
I have missed your rough-hewn hands
upon my peach smooth skin
I ache for you to take my soul soaring high again

©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse: Quadrille #77 Ace of Poems


The Blackout Creature

My nightly ritual as a child was to shut the closet door,
to bar the blackout creature from creeping across the floor
and crawling under my narrow bed, grabbing my exposed parts

My imaginative child’s mind reeled with dark spectral visions
of slithering crawling monsters lurking in the shadowy night,
looking for a tasty human morsel like my tiny toes, to bite

Though I may be old now some habits are hard to break
I still close the closet door and keep my limbs covered,
for who knows what lies without, what may be hovering
within this creative poet’s mind and what it can create!

©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Riddikulus!

The Etiquette of Nature

Does the rose follow a set of rules in deciding when to bloom?
And once the petals open wide, do the bees take that
as an open invite to enter in and feast?

And as the thrasher builds its nest
within the thorny cactus arms,
does it ask permission, or barge right in?
And should the cactus object what then?
What are the etiquette rules in nature?

When the caterpillars attack milkweed,
stripping it of its tender and tasty green leaves,
does the milkweed weep for being so mistreated,
or does it understand the role it plays in a precious life cycle?

Now with stem bare, the lowly milkweed struggles,
flourishing in spite of its nakedness with
brilliant blooms of succulent yellow-orange flowers
teasing and tempting the haughty beautiful royals
the colorful Monarch and Queen butterflies
and though uninvited, they still stop by.

So I ask my friends– are there any etiquette rules in nature?

©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Just one Word: Etiquette

Of Night Beetles and March Hares

StarGazing Rabbit

From here in the fragrant rustling sage grass
I watch the night beetles race for the full bellied moon
But they will never get there I know for their efforts are futile

Watching their wings spread from heavy mahogany bodies,
It’s a wonder they glide so high for they are heavy and cumbersome
Dressed for battle as they are in their hard shell of protective armor

But like I, these warriors are drawn to the white stone moon
But alas both of us for very different reasons
Beetles are in love with the silvery gleaming light and I–
Adore the March Hare living up there and wish I was there too

©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Art Flash!

#Haiku: Joy of Light 20

The joy of floating

otter basking in sunshine

safe from predators

©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg

Carpe Diem’s Light Retreat 2019

Not Just my Verse Your Two Two Too!- The Wrong Side of 40- A Poetry Challenge from Rory (A Guy Called Bloke)

Welcome to ….
Not Just My Verse, Your Two Two Too!

Walt (Walt’s Writings) graciously tagged me to continue this aging process poem! Below, I’ll tag the next poet/writer, to carry on with the poem. 

Once the poem [Verse] leaves my blog, the next blogger along can take it where ever they want with regards to their own four line verse but always staying on topic.

Got it?  Remember to tag another poet to keep it going!!
Topic: The Ageing Process

The Wrong Side of 40

Rory’s Bit

How l wish, that when l was younger,
My parents had been somewhat bolder,
Concerning the ageing process and the wonders,
Blunders, pitfalls and perils of getting older!

Dorinda’s Bit

Wrinkles in my skin have begun to bloom
I dare not look in the mirror much longer
Mom once said, child, you can forego this doom
Honestly, she couldn’t have been any wronger

Walt’s Bit

How can I write about the wrong side of 40
When that was over 35 years ago

I’ve seen the wrong side of 40, 50, 60 and 70
So I wish you all luck, “Care for some tea?”

Linda’s Bit

Me, I’m in my middle sixties
With new lines on my face each day
Road maps I call them of my twenties
And I wouldn’t want it any other way!

I’m tagging Beckie over at Beckie’s Mental Mess!

The Ghost of Manayunk


A big rambling three story row home where I lived all alone
save for my two cats, who greeted me when I came home
but soon after I moved in I noticed some rather odd events
things got moved around, and the air sometimes so dense

And up on the third floor, a mezuzah hung on a door jamb
could it be to deter an errant ghost from going on the lam?

A rush of cold air greeted me when I entered the room, and
shadows danced before my eyes, amidst the startling gloom
I shivered from the cold, as if a goose stepped on my grave
and then I knew why the cats stayed far, far away
for they never followed me up to this room
only stood at the bottom of the stairs and hissed

It wasn’t until my psychic mother visited and then I knew for sure
she awakened me one morning and told me her vivid dream
A woman was murdered in this house, there’s a ghost living here.

©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: What We Do in the Shadows

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