You glare at me
with a look that could sour
grapes on the vine
Full of contempt
and just a little crazy
I take it as a sign
Our affair is history
Friendship notwithstanding
Your words are now snide
I have zero tolerance
for this excursion to lunacy
I never signed up for that ride
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts:
Friendship - WotD
Excursion - RDP
Snide - FOWC
Zero - Daily Addictions
The milky moon
shines a delicate light
through clouds of gauze
this balmy summer night
The rain from earlier
still puddled on the ground
The night had become still
with barely a sound
A caterwauling feline on a fence
Hatchlings safe in their nest
A hooting owl high in a tree
Hungry baby on mother’s breast
The day comes to an end
with everyone in their place
Time to rest before returning
with the night’s grace
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts
Delicate - WotD
Return - RDP
Nest - FOWC
Image by Larisa Koshkina from Pixabay
Sometimes I wonder
if this is part of a
wicked plan to confuse
What was up is now down
Your language foreign
It does not amuse
What I see as black
you claim is white
This you I don’t recognize
Snipping and sniping
always unpredictable
bringing tears to my eyes
I feel a cloud of discontent
shadowing what was once
pure and honest
Is this some kind of sham?
What have you become?
It’s not what you promised
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts
Tear - WotD
Sham -RDP
Grace is hosting D'Verse Poets Open Link Night
Image by DavidRockDesign from Pixabay
Her hair long and black as a raven’s wing
Glorious, loose curls falling down her back
She walked to forget his words that did sting
Not realizing she had come off track
Stopping briefly, she put down her backpack
and stood staring up at the vast blue sky
Realizing she knew the answer why
He was insecure, she was beautiful
But did he really have to make her cry?
His actions had left her feeling vengeful
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Frank Hubeny is hosted at D'Verse Poets tonight
and has challenged ged us with a Dizain.
The form is 10 lines with 10 syllables per line
with a rhyme pattern of ababbccdcd
This is my first attempt at this form
Her nature tempestuous
Like a storm at sea
Yet in calm waters
speaking civilized words
Carrying poison
Delivered flawlessly
Taking down her prey
Wounding, but not slaying
With a prepared agility
delivering a soothing touch
to those she injured
Offering words of comfort
Unwittingly welcomed
Any resistance
Could invoke ire
She was fragile like a bomb
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts
Agile - WotD
Prepare - RDP
Touch - FOWC
Image Gerd Altmann, Pixabay
A slice of moon
veiled so slightly
by a smoky cloud
Air so thick
it could be chewed
Voices carried loud
The night sultry
Perspiration beading
on heat weary brows
A distant dog barking
disturbing an old man’s
intermittent drowse
Car horns honk
Music of the night
Broken glass gleamed
Garbage plunked
unceremoniously
and someone screamed
Back alley sex
Writhing in
gratuitous ecstasy
Money exchanged
No more than
a sick fantasy
Alone in the darkness
oblivious to it all
A junkie finds a vein
Sirens cutting silence
Purposeful, speeding
Anther body slain
The distorted face
of a city breathing fire
Scorching, charring
Fanning the flames
Of society’s underbelly
The flip side jarring
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts
Chew - SoCS
Sick - RDP
Writhe - FOWC
MLMM - Saturday Mix - Onomatopoeia
Honk/Plunk/ Flip
Her eyes were shining
on this night of the full moon
Hair tumbling down her back
A social butterfly
Sashaying across the floor
Her eyes were shining
Others would smile
as she approached them
On this night of the full moon
Basking in the attention
Reveling in the mood
Hair tumbling down her back
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Mind Love Misery's Menagerie Saturday Mix - A Cascade
Cascade, a form created by Udit Bhatia, is all about
receptiveness, but in a smooth cascading way like
a waterfall. The structure is as follows:
a/b/c, d/e/A, f/g/B, h/i/C
Word Prompts
Social
Shine
Night
Sashay
Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay
Ladies and gents, roll up, roll up
The request of Cockney patter
You won’t believe your eyes
goes the stallholder’s chatter
Merchandise galore
from soup to nuts
A new set of plates
or some fabric cuts
Fresh baked bagels
and plenty of nosh
Saris and leather goods
Some things quite posh
Fruits and vegetables
Ribbons and lace
Plants and flowers
Caricatures of your face
Clothing and shoes
in all shapes and sizes
Treasures to be found
Bargains are the prizes
A pint of whelks
or some dressed crab
Toffee apples on a stick
Butter on the marble slab
A melting pot of cultures
in the London’s East End
A market for everyone
Where personalities blend
An historic market
From centuries ago
Everything still for sale
on somebody’s barrow
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Sarah is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight and has prompted
us with our memories of markets. Mine is of Petticoat Lane
in London where I used to go as a child. It was colorful
and memorable
The view across the lake
in the early morning
Magnificent in its silence
as the day was dawning
Birds aroused and calling
in a contest of sound
Happy communicating
while others dig the ground
Each day wondrous
in its simple familiarity
Traveling on the wheels of existence
Rotating in its peculiarity
Monotonous but necessary
a cycle impossible to cheat
The tread of time so ruthless
that it tramples even kings under its feet
Such is life
A difficult road to follow
Beautiful yet tough
sometimes a hard pill to swallow
Moments captured and stored
in the memory banks of existence
Destined to be robbed by spendthrifts
With little or no resistance
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Prompts:
Silence
Contest
View
Spendthrift
Mind Love Misery's Menagerie Saturday Mix
Personification, using this sentence:
The tread of time is so ruthless that it tramples even the kings
under its feet.
Fatigued by a vagabond life
Bones weary from the weather
Clothes threadbare and worn
skin tough as hammered leather
A look unmistakable
with eyes forever distant
An existence not of choice
always socially resistant
Fame lost in history
and soon forgotten
family ties and love
now decayed and rotten
Tattered belongings
A bottle in a brown bag
A dirty old blanket
His only swag
The liquor warming
and a welcome treat
soon lost in a whisky haze
This sad life on the street
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts:
Vagabond
Fame
Welcome
Grace is hosting Open Link Night at D'Verse
Image by Ben Kerckx from Pixabay