cockatoo (zejel 2)

Put out the seed, and look at who
Has come to feed, it’s cockatoo!
Crest raised he shrieks, at me, at you.

Nature or nurture, from the brood,
there never was a bird so rude.
Look at how the feeder is chewed,
by loudmouth bastard cockatoo.

sayless (zejel 1)

Some say “least said soonest mended”,
and thinking thus, so was ended
a chance for what I intended.

Caution’s counsel taken to heart:
harder to end than never start,
if never joined, no pain to part.
So my heart, I thought, defended.

five red tulips in a white pot IV

Holding aloft their fiery cups,
flames they have caught
drop
by
drop
day
by
day
as they fall from the sun,
they are full now,
filled to overflowing,
their bowls brimming
and their petals saturated.
And yet still they are insatiable,
glowing like greedy coals
that are not dimmed by the sunlight
but fed by it.

Fourth in the “five red tulips in a white pot series” – and yes, there are only four tulips in flower. One was eaten by something. But 80% is pretty good. 

less than half the arc

for the dVerse prompt “always in season”:

The last of the summer has been scraped from the jar,
the last of the sweet purple-black stains
are dissolved away in the washing-up water,
and the last of the scent of heat and dust and musk
dissipates in the fresh spring air.

night walk

I walk away from my shadow,
trying to leave it behind,
along with this day –
this day that has drained me.
But it follows me up the hill,
and lingers with me at the gate.
Until, as inevitably as tomorrow,
I follow it home.

 

Written for the dVerse quadrille prompt, “let’s linger“.  44 words, including the word linger.  

I didn’t think I was going to respond to this one – too big a day at work, it was almost 8pm before I could finally switch off.  But, a walk outside in the bright moonlight – full moon tonight – and I feel refreshed. Shame I now need to go to sleep so I can face another day tomorrow…  ‘night all. Stay safe.  

five red tulips in a white pot III

How can I describe
these whorls that have risen from the soil?
Somewhere between green and blue,
cyan, teal-green…? Or… yes… Persian-green,
this name so apt for the colour of tulip leaves,
that mountain flower

transformers

For the dVerse prompt “creepies and crawlies“, a sonnet about slaters:

When the sun is up and the birds about
you can find them, if you know where they creep
into the crevices, all flattened out –
the slate-grey slaters, all huddled in sleep.

a poem for Marion

I am sending you a clover
for the sake of the stairs
that I imagine you sitting at the top of,
thousands of miles
from where I sit at the bottom of mine
to bring you luck so you never fall.

six strand fence song – variation

Lean close and listen:
to each wire thrumming,
each wire humming
its note in the chord.

a clover for Worms

This is for Worms, and for the dVerse novelinee challenge:

Sometimes among the green, something… stands out,
an imperfection, something that’s not right,
an extra leaf that bends the shape about.
That symmetry – it catches at my sight…
And here it is, four lobes instead of three.
Whatever luck it holds, I give to you,