Bats

The day is done now; comes the gloaming

Creatures of the dark are roaming

Wings of leather, bodies warm

Gracefulness of function, form

Like two hands inside of gloves

Circling the sky above 

Clicks and echoes in the night

Shadowed hunters take to flight

Blackness ends now; sunrise soon

Hide again, birds of the moon.

Moon Bats by RichO

submitted for Poetic Bloomings, Prompt 92, Gone To the Birds (I know bats are not birds, but they fly and they're cool!)

December Sun (a collaboration w/Peggy Goetz)

The following post appears today, 1/29 in the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads poetry site. I wrote this Haiki in collaboration with Peggy Goetz, a fellow poet.

Thanks so much Peggy!

photo source

December sun

peeks through gray smiling

for late roses damp with dew

Petals of faded velvet

recall their glory days

She stands at the window

remembering, sighs

as soup pot boils over

Red cardinal alights

upon rusted sled

Scarlet melody wakes

summer memories

lovers walk entwined

Hearts naked dancing

with electric hunger

Fingertips buzzing

Each touch a playful sting,

kindling sleeping skin

August blaze lingers as owl

moon lights dark eastern sky

Silent, wolf moon stalks

owl among stars 

Plaintive howls in the snow

Soon pups will play in spring bright

dales as all begins again.

by lolamouse and Peggy Goetz

submitted for Imaginary Gardens With Real  Toads,  In Tandem

The Mix Tape of Us

Charlotte Gainsbourg, AnOther

The other day 

I found myself singing

one of those songs

Do you remember?

We were freshmen

I played my records 

window open

waiting

for you to swim by

I cast out notes as bait

to draw you to me

"I love that one!" you'd say

 I'd act nonchalant- "Really? Cool."

Really cool

Playlist as love potion

I remember

my heart flip flopping

 like a fish on the deck of a boat

when you noticed

and sinking like the Titanic

when you didn't

Sometimes even now

a beat sneaks up on me

and I find myself singing

(despite myself)

from the mix tape of us.

submitted for The Mag, Mag153

The Girl Who Loved Winter Sleeps

image by Rosie Hardy, self-portrait

The girl who loved winter

knew warmth

Kissed by a dream

Morpheus seduced

She slept

Snowflakes fell

like sand in her eyes

The wind rocked her

in its icy arms

and sang to her a haunting lullaby

She slept

a deep and primal sleep

A she-bear in her cave

Embraced by long black hair

A blanket of herself

thick and sweet-smelling

The girl who loved winter

cossetted by the cold

felt warm

The winter sheltered her 
like a puppy wrapped in an eiderdown quilt

A small beating heart

within the vast whiteness.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge, First and Last Lines (in which we are to take a last line from a previous poem and make it the first line of a new one.  I used two last lines: The Girl Who Loves Winter III and The Longing and made them my first three lines of this one.

His Bouquet

Human Bodies Artwork by Cecelia Webber

 Girl, he saw you in the sun

looking fresh and sweet

Upturned the earth right where you stood

Plucked you off your feet

He fed you lies like water

and he was the air you breathed

Didn’t treat you like he oughtta

Cut you off below the knees

He swore that you were pretty

so you thought it was okay

Girl, it's such a pity

You’re a bloom in his bouquet

You’re addicted to his gentleness

You love it when he’s rough

The sky is bluer when you kiss

You just can’t get enough

But you can’t see you’re dying

There is less of you each day

Better heed what I’m implying

You’re a bloom in his bouquet

Now you’re bound to his deceptions

Too late for seeds of doubt

You pay for self-deception

Your bright petals are plucked out

You cannot stem the withering

Your color fades away

It’s past time for considering

You’re a bloom in his bouquet.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Friday Music Prompt with Marian, Dessa "Alibi"

Human Bodies Artwork by Cecelia Webber

The Girl Who Loves Winter III

Winter breeze by Pure-Poison 89

The girl who loves winter

feels lonely

in her snow globe

She talks

to the ghosts of her breaths

and dances alone

to the music of icicles dripping

and windsong

One night she prays

to her favorite snow angel

for someone to love

Come morning

she finds frozen earth

a sodden feather

and puddles of angel tears

The girl who loves winter

feels cold

in a way that she doesn’t like

This scares her

She grabs

fistfuls of snow

She builds

and builds

The girl who loves winter

builds a snow lover

with branches for arms

stones for eyes

holly berries for a mouth

ready to receive her lips

The girl who loves winter

kisses her lover

Lips blue upon blue

Cold upon cold

She is embraced

by arms just born

Caressed by hands

new to touch

The girl who loves winter

knows warmth.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry's Wed. Challenge, Worldbuilding

Tapestry

Like a tapestry

we knit ourselves together

hand over hand

word over word

Even the odd strands that hang

loosely, fraying

Tucked adeptly into the weft

to form texture, pattern

Time is a patient weaver

its cloth strong

beautiful.

submitted for The Mag, Mag152

The Longing

image by Rosie Hardy

Slide under my window

Go to my bed, where I wait

Unsated but for your touch

Such is my fate; such is my luck

Succubus, I live for night

Fight the day's start

Heartbeats double for your lack

Blackness covers me, soft and deep

Keep me wrapped in your spell

Quell the thirst in me

Tea of night, thick and dark, I drink

Blink back the awakening

Cling to you, though only mist

Kissed by a dream.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge, Chained Rhyme