Charmed Chaos
Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
Tag: #dversepoetics
Once Forsaken
I am the bud and the blossom, I am the late-falling leaf.- Paul Dunbar The Paradox Poem Is not the velvet rose always seen As soft as a summer night’s breeze, Yet once dried their piercing thornsWith emerald leaves tattered and torn Become knives that cut all too… Continue Reading “Once Forsaken”
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When Rain and Darkness Comes
Deep beneath rotting loam, spores await the right moment when rain and darkness comes to encourage growth blending to create spawn Tiny white threadlike bodies formmycelium in the first stagebefore the fungi emerge They push their way throughthe fertile medium, only to burst forthready for pluckingby long pale… Continue Reading “When Rain and Darkness Comes”
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In the Early Light of Dawn
“You fling it open for the first time/ but I’m gone” -M Kahf Wall Though now gone from your tender sight if you look for me in early light of dawn when colors are afire in a painted skyand birds are greeting the coming mornyou will see… Continue Reading “In the Early Light of Dawn”
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A Heavenly Place
This is not a garden bench It’s an inspiring art project built with our handsusing your skill and our vivid imaginationsmade of aging corbels rescued from an old house It’s doors with glass and painted antique knobsleading to hidden realms if we say magical… Continue Reading “A Heavenly Place”
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The Death of a Rose
“Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress?”- Pablo Neruda, The Book of Questions As dying fragrant petals drift to blackened terra, earthworms seeking fresh air, drink in their sweet perfumeand taste of life’s fading essence in dusty pink huesas they… Continue Reading “The Death of a Rose”
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Queen of Shadows
“Pulvis et umbra sumus. (We are but dust and shadow.)” ― Horace, The Odes of Horace In a dark glen of an ancient forestthere lives a wicked old cronewho feasts upon tender humansthat through fate, happen by all alone Her name is Queen of Shadowsfor to… Continue Reading “Queen of Shadows”
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To Be Small
“Coming, going, the waterbirds don’t leave a trace” – (Dogen) To be small among towering treesTo saunter through umber rustling leavesHere is where my soul comes alive, thrivesWhen wind comes singing over hillsides Sunset paints sky with an artist’s handEvening ambles in, drapes across… Continue Reading “To Be Small”
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Linda Lee Lyberg
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