Smoky #DailyHaikuChallenge

thick mist

Under rolling mist
Daylight, birdsong and lush dew
Dawn crystallises

Day 194/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.

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Sunset Senses

sunset senses.jpg

I smile at sunset’s throng of small songbirds
singing out while nuzzling their nested fauna,
dreamily chirping ‘til sleep stills them.
Resting in treetops higher than dusk,
but still lower than the scattering raindrops,
they are held firmly by devoted arms that reach
forever into the night, soaring upward
to heaven to sleep there ’til dawn.

I see long, last looks from the sky
before unused clouds crawl along alone
into dark slumber where dreams wait to explode.
Glancing at the flowers’ closed petals
in graceful sleep, the moon casts a shadow
on their last blushes as the day grows weary;
their scent lingers freely and comes closer
to me through the tranquil grace of nightfall,
and we walk hand in hand through the garden
at this quiet time.

I hear the tinkling of ivory
from the stream playing right underneath
my window as it wends its weary way into the
night, moving freely in its dream state;
asleep already but forever moving
closer to a new dawn in another
world somewhere out there and beyond
our scope – to bask always in moonlight’s
infinite pond.

I love the setting of the sun as she lays
out her golden robes; all too soon she will
adorn them once more, but for now she rests
and allows the beauty of a silver face to watch
over us in the darkness. Once inside the night,
the moon caresses the tips of nightfall wherever
it touches and we all slip silently into sleep.
If we’re lucky we soar high and meet
the heavens in our dreams and wake to live
them a thousandfold once daylight’s
waking moment’s blossom.

Such a Tiny Thing

snow-bird

Sing little bird,
fly overhead,
rest in the trees’
wavering breeze.
Lift the curtain high at dawn
let the flickering candles yawn.
Tall trees aglow,
clouds full of snow,
laden with light,
sing black on white,
snow flurry sneeze
small feathers freeze.
Fly little bird
lift up and fight,
go little bird
circle the light,
sleep little bird,
a peaceful goodnight.
Try little bird,
lift your wings while you’re still singing
soon the night will warm your dreaming.
Fly little bird
reach for the night,
go little bird,
shy winter’s light.
Warm your body, melt the snow
for the daylight crisp below.
Go little bird,
sleep little bird,
find the songs you sweetly sing,
nestle there ’til winter’s still.
Go little bird,
up to the night,
fly little bird
soundly tonight.
See the moon she’s smiling for you
shivering stars their arms are open too,
so go little bird,
fly little bird,
high little bird,
hush little bird,
soon will come the voices of the morn
joyous little creature of our dawn.
Go little bird,
fly little bird,
sleep little bird,
twilight is heard.
Go little bird…
go.

Hangman’s Use

tree_dead_rope_desert_vegetation_48118_3840x1200.jpg

(44 words- ‘Open’) Quadrille#16 for d’VerseView other entries here.

Is it dusk yet?
Opened eyes means
tears escape when dawn
lashes my body –
bones of a poor soul
without sobriety to trickle
his lips. Let the coward
in me be quenched,
then lead me to the gallows –
but I won’t open my eyes.

 

Dawn (Ghazal)

DAWN.png

Poetry challenge #44: Ghazal by Jane Dougherty

3rd draft and final attempt  – slightly diff but technically accurate.

Maidens tell tales when love remembers,
flamed arrows shoot a heart’s dying embers.

A stinging love’s smouldering ashes cry,
on dove cheeks, cute, unlike hearts’ dying embers.

Awaken Dawn with a dearth of kindling,
two souls, torn fruits of hearts’ dying embers.

Day perfumes rosewater of sullen dreams,
day wakes to salute  hearts’ dying embers.

Clasp as partners to the edge of all love,
hands sieve moot ghosts from hearts’ dying embers.

2nd Revised version – I had missed out the internal rhyme, but this spoiled the first

Maidens tell tales when love remembers,
flamed arrows shoot a heart’s dying embers.

A stinging love’s smouldering ashes cry,
on dove cheeks, mute, like hearts’ dying embers.

Awaken Dawn with a dearth of kindling,
two souls, red fruits, hearts’ dying embers.

Day perfumes rosewater of sullen dreams,
drank to salute hearts’ dying embers.

Clasp as partners to the edge of all love,
hands sieve moot ghosts from hearts’ dying embers.

1st draft – without internal rhyme

Maidens tell tales when love remembers,
flamed arrows shoot a heart’s dying embers.

A stinging love’s smouldering ashes cry,
on dove cheeks, plump, like hearts’ dying embers.

Awaken Dawn with a dearth of kindling,
two souls laden with hearts’ dying embers.

Day perfumes rosewater of sullen dreams,
drank to enliven hearts’ dying embers.

Clasp as partners to the edge of all love,
hands sieve ash ghosts from hearts’ dying embers.