Charmed Chaos
Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
Tag: Poetry
My Hands, Your Hands
“Our mothers always remain the strangest, craziest people we’ve ever met.” ― Marguerite Duras My hands that held yours in the last months of life have now become your hands a parchment of antique white Though memories of you never leave In dark shadows of missing you, I only need to… Continue Reading “My Hands, Your Hands”
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Morning Dew
Morning dewsprinkling wildflowersemblazonedwith colorgoldenrod, chartreuse, hot pinkliving confetti Author’s Note: Day 7 of National Poetry Writing Month.
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Tragic Innuendo
A tragic innuendo-closed for renovations but sometimes, an ardent heart never re-opens becomes a sacrificial lamb when intimate relationswhispered conversations no longer emblazon the salt moon with sweet intentand all that remains are fire brick cindersyearning for a flame Author’s Note: Day Four of National Poetry Writing Month.
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When Shimmering Sunlight is Perfect
Blooms on butter yellow roses whisper sending goosebumps across my skin the tender voice of my mother calling, ‘Come see it’s Spring again!’ Mockingbirds caw mimicking rowdy black crows as jeweled hummingbirds chase tiny gnats mid-air, fat honeybees amble from flower to flower, subdued by their burden of golden pollen Here in the garden, curious… Continue Reading “When Shimmering Sunlight is Perfect”
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Dewdrops on Morning Grass
From high in lush greening mesquite desert thrasher sings a sweet refrain to a honeydew ripened rising sunas it paints the morning desert His lonely unearthly melody of nostalgic blues makes me wonder how disparate my life may behad I chosen another pathway But soon this misty thought… Continue Reading “Dewdrops on Morning Grass”
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Reflections on a Spring Day
I wander out in stark wilderness where goldenrod kisses a sailor blue sky and chartreuse leaves of pink buttercups sway in a contrary March wind spreading pungent lemony pollen tempting even recalcitrant bees I lie down amidst this chaos of life buzzing and blooming all around menostalgic for my ardent… Continue Reading “Reflections on a Spring Day”
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A Life Well Lived
I remember the faded sky colorof washed-soft chambrayas if it were only yesterdayand though it was only an old shirt,laundered and spun dry too many timescollar and cuffs frayed, threadbare at the seamsweathered and time worn, it still had a placefor every tear and… Continue Reading “A Life Well Lived”
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Linda Lee Lyberg
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