Merci, everyone, for your fluffy encouragement. An unexpected flurry has pulled me aside, but will catch up next week. Here's a small offering for today.
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still green
Merci, everyone, for your fluffy encouragement. An unexpected flurry has pulled me aside, but will catch up next week. Here's a small offering for today.
still green
Elusive
Sleep escapes through stitches
in my dreams and leaves me
counting heartbeats in the dark
until it comes again to light
upon my brow,
a restless moth.
back from the dead (NOT!)
Elusive particularly resonates with me, Malinda--Insomnia is a bitchlooking forward to more.
Ray to rhyme with bay; not Rae to rhyme with bae
Hullooo!
I like the idea of sleep as moth, and the fact that I don't know quite where the metaphor is going until I get to the end of the poem. (I hope you get some sleep, though. I've always been able to sleep like a rock, but never been able to stay awake long past my bedtime.)
fun and felicitous, really?
"stitches/ in my dreams and leaves me" is really nice.
The little guy behind the curtain
Love the sonics of "School Days"; the multiple short "i" and short "a" sounds create a delightful complex sound patterning. Back for more later.
"Poetry is not a code to be broken but a way of seeing with the eyes shut." -- Linda Pastan
but say it is my humour
Malinda
April Snow delicately captures the crossover of petals and flakes. You have the touch.
Elusive is a great picture, and escapes through stiches / in my dreams is a great line.
More, more!
Regards / Dunc
Fun and felicitous PFFA patron
Malinda,
Mastering fauna and flora as always with your magic touch. A pleasure to be here finally. Will be back for more!
Sorella
Line Manager
What I appreciate most in your work is that every time you write something, it's seems like a new revelation. You bring to mind experiences of nature that are pretty difficult to access, as they seem on the limits of perception and dream-like states.
The poems so far are very tender and evanescent. I love the lightness of touch in 'Elusive', just like the moth itself. I hope you contribute some more of these excellent short poems.
still green
Thanks to all of you for being so very supportive. I've got a lot of catching up to do, but at two a day I should make it. Let's commence with recipes and snippety observations, and with luck, one of these days, a smidgen of substance may creep in.
still green
Bécasse à la Ficelle*
Long beaks at rest on their breasts,
wings akimbo, they pirouette
before the dancing fire, naked dervishes
suspended by a thread.
When they slow,
eager hands rewind the string
to set them whirling once again.
In half an hour their skins will drip
with juices, brown and crackle in the heat.
Cut them down, they'll take their bow
upon a row of toasty baguette cushions,
surrounded by sauces and mushroom bouquets.
*
*
*
*
*Woodcock on a string: see them here.
still green
The Watchers
Narrow-shouldered cypress hunch
against the wind, their dark shrouds stark
against a pale sky.
Fun and felicitous PFFA patron
Hmmm, and now you master fauna in the kitchen :-)
Welcome back, Malinda, we missed your exquisite poems. Succulent birds, and sentinel cypresses, much enjoyed.
Edit: Hmmm, shrouds, maybe fundamentalist spies, or ghosts.
Sorella
Fun and felicitous PFFA patron
'Bécasse à la Ficelle' is lovely, as is your sure touch throughout the thread.
Easy does it, you can make up the lost time.
A Squarely, Squirrely Moderator
Elusive has the delicate touch evocative
of its subject. Lovely.
...our words... come from obsessions we must submit to....~~~~~Richard Hugo
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