Category: Love

True Love – A Cadralor

True Love

Shivering, the young woman stepped outside
pulling on the toggle of her duffle coat
shielding herself from the blistering wind
Just after five and darkness had already fallen
as she headed west on the tree-lined avenue

An old man sat quietly in the corner of the café
Staring into his bottomless cup of coffee
Ignoring hunger pains, twiddling with the
hole in the left finger of his old gloves
His head filled with memories suppressed

An elegant woman sat upright with a fixed smile
He, a puffed up blowhard, at the microphone
Commanding attention with his loud voice
and phony diatribe as kiss-asses drooled
Her body ached and her mind lived in the past

A lifetime ago two kids had clung to each other
Inseparable, joined at the hip, in love
She from the house on the hill, privileged
He from the other side of the railroad tracks
His intellect and her beauty, a winning combo

The young woman saw him in the cafe, head lowered
It had been a long time passing before her call to him
Entering he looked up at her, eyes clouded, and she went to him
Her father embraced her and she clung to him tightly
He needed to know his one true love was dying


Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Bjorn is hosting D'Verse Poets and has prompted us with a form
called Cadralor.
The cadralor is a poem of 5, unrelated, numbered stanzaic images, each of which can stand alone as a poem, is fewer than 10 lines, and ideally constrains all stanzas to the same number of lines. Imagery is crucial to cadralore: each stanza should be a whole, imagist poem, almost like a scene from a film, or a photograph. The fifth stanza acts as the crucible, alchemically pulling the unrelated stanzas together into a love poem. By “love poem,” we mean that your fifth stanza illuminates a gleaming thread that runs obliquely through the unrelated stanzas and answers the compelling question: “For what do you yearn?”

Image by Please Don't sell My Artwork AS IS from Pixabay

Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden Fruit

Beneath the ruby glow of soft skin
Flesh golden and sweet
Awakening the buds
of taste, each bite tantalizing
Stirring memories of heady nights
Sipping Mango martinis in moonlight
Feeding the other with fruit erotica
Drowning in each others eyes
and moving to love’s music
Insatiable for an exotic experience
Souvenirs from another time


Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Mish is hosting D’Verse Poets tonight and has
Asked us to think about fruit.  We can write about
fruit itself or perhaps a memory in evokes.

Poem for a Pup

Poem for a Pup

Puppy doodle doo
Give me back that shoe
It’s not your doggie plaything

But you look at me
With eyes that see
Deep into my everything

How can I be angry
You are likely hungry
And it’s your way of pleading

Your actions do say
"Mama I want to play
This is something I’m needing"

Let’s go on a jaunt
Whatever you want
I’ll always be here for you

Fetch me that ball
I will give you my all
You’re my puppy doodle doo


Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Ingrid is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight and has prompted us with Oral Poetry.
Begin to compose a poem without putting pen to paper: you can say the words in your head, or repeat them out loud. Record them, if you wish, as an aid to memory. Try to complete the poem as far as possible without writing it down. Think about the devices discussed above: regular rhythms, repeated phrases or ‘motifs’, alliteration and rhyme schemes – anything to aid the memory and help the words to flow. Alternatively, why not compose a stream-of-consciousness poem orally, recording the words as they come to you?
There are no strict rules here, but do try to compose at least some of the poem without writing it down immediately, perhaps stanza by stanza. Once you have written it down, read it aloud to yourself, and think about any improvements you could make: a kind of oral editing process.

Photo Pixabay

Enigma – An Acrostic Plus poem

Enigma

You were awkward from the first conversation
Opinionated and judgmental
Understanding nothing of what I said

Arranged to meet with many
Reservations, but was intrigued
Even bought a new dress

And who would have believed it?
No overstated opinions or arrogance 

I cannot even remember what I ate

We talked and laughed until dawn
Having sipped on many a martini

We both had difficulty leaving
And clung to each other, what was the harm?
Sprinkled in fairy dust we floated in a fantasia


Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Lillian is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight and has prompted us
with a puzzle and acrostic poetry.  the first letter of each line
spells out a word and if you write an acrostic plus poem the last
letter of each line is the resulting word that brings it together.
I hope mine makes sense to you ☺️


Image by StockSnap from Pixabay 

Stolen – A Quadrille

Stolen

One day when I was not looking
it went missing
I always held it close
Protected it, guarded it
with care and attention
but then in a beat
it was gone
Taken from its hiding place
and without my knowledge
You stole my heart


Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

De Jackson (aka Whimsy Gizmo) is hosting Monday Quadrille
at D'Verse Poets.  She has prompted us the the word 'Heart'

A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words excluding the title

Photo by Belinda Fewings on Unsplash

Imperfect Pair

Imperfect Pair

In the beginning
with love’s first blush
of giddy heartbeat
and butterfly stomach,
words full of shyness
and best behavior
are shared
No one else exists
In this euphoria-filled
magic kingdom for two
A single moment apart
Could send one
or the other reeling
into a cloud of self-doubt 
and suspicion
Is it really love you feel
or just infatuation?
You know that
without the other,
unbearable as it may seem,
absence makes
the heart grow fonder
and love grows
But when pixie dust settles
and the gilded rose fades
familiarity becomes
contemptuous
Separations inevitable
and wished for
More frequent and preferred
Talk is straight and deflowered
and before you can say
What happened?
It is out of sight and
out of mind


Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Merril is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight and she has prompted
us with 'Proverbs'. She points out that many are contradictory,
when you think about it.  We are to choose one or two and write
a poem using one or both.

My choices were:
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Out of sight, out of mind

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Wishing on Stars

Wishing on Stars

Thoughts are sent up in the air
with hopes they will reach you
as we stare at the same moon
Letting the thousands of miles between us
shrink into meaninglessness


But endless days stretch 
into future loneliness 
and I find myself wishing
to be gifted patience
to understand that this is not forever


Feeling incomplete as if
a limb has been removed
and without which I cannot function
Some days I walk with a limp 
Others I feel incapacitated 


I wish upon night stars for your return
That I might be whole again




Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Stream of Consciousness - Up
Word of the Day - Patient
RDP - Incomplete

When It Is Time

When It Is Time

I can assure you
Lovesick I am not
I am merely smitten by
the thought of your love
My mind wanders in dreams
of warm, exotic nights
under the stars
That you might hold me
in your arms
speaking words of love
that I might feel butterflies
in my stomach and remember
how it felt
Is it so wrong to wish
for these things?
I do not even know you
You are out there somewhere
and you have not found me yet
But I am here
and I am ready to receive
when it is time
 
 
Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Bjorn is hosting Open Link Night at D'Verse Poets before they
take their summer break until July 11.

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay 

Feeling Blue

Feeling Blue

Feeling Blue
Turquoise sea and azure sky
Shades of nature's blue
Navy clouds
as the sun sinks low
and night brings its hue

Cornflowers and Peacocks
Kingfishers too
Blueberries and blue corn
Hyacinth Macaws
Hydrangeas kissed with dew

Blue moon in the sky
We both see the same view
Across the miles
Blue is my mood
because I cannot see you


Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Sarah is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight and has prompted us
to write a poem about "Blue".  Blue is my favorite color!
I wrote this poem in 2019 in response to a similar prompt
from OctPoWriMo.  I hope you like it.

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay 

Crows Calling At Night

Crows Calling At Night

The days and nights become interchangeable
as clouds transition from grey to dark grey
It seems an eternity since she saw him
Fondly remembering the shared laughter
The developing closeness and intimacy
Feelings that had been an infrequent visitor
in a solitary existence had sparked her into life
Now, with him gone, the monotony has returned
The humdrum life of loneliness she wore like a drab cloak
The only sound she hears is the squawking of crows
Sitting as black robe-like mourners in the trees
Hunched is groups, cawing empathies for her loss
Her only activity, the blanket she had promised him
The endless evening hours are now filled
with the under and over movement of the shuttle
as she weaves the brightly colored threads growing with each turn
Making it with love for her paramour who may or may not return
The crows cry out, feeling her pain as she weeps into the yarn
 
 
Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Laura Bloomsbury is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight.  She has
prompted us to choose one of five poems she shared that were
translated from the original Chinese and to reinterpret it
in out own style, keeping the original title.
I chose the following:

Crows calling at Night ~ Li baiYellow clouds beside the walls; crows roosting near.
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.
She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.
She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.“


Photo by Mahdi Dastmard on Unsplash

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