Burnt Orange

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Silent autumn’s hands are winding,
Curling up others in another sleep –
Sweep me a pyre, statuesque.
Winds come and merge from all four corners,
Finally they meet undanced as yet.

Crisped bronzed fires are set ablaze,
Browned slaves are tossed and cast adrift –
Swept but sculpted, arabesque.
All of the fallen, recipient mourners,
Are deftly ushered, to their kismet.

A Little Ditty

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Flaming hearts and dying embers
Burning coals from hell
Telling tales when love remembers
Turn cold from tears that swell

Trodden paths and countless journeys
Always meet dead ends
No pavements lined, save for illusion
Regardless we still wend

Dying smoke and smouldering ashes
Lay naked on our feet
A dearth of kindling adds more torment
We venture forth with deceit

When Light is Absent

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What are you doing
that I can’t be?
What is it occupies your thoughts of me?
Who stands in the light that
blinds equally
both shadows dancing in the flames?

Where can you be now
that I won’t see?
What longings are seeping deliberately?
Who finds them and binds
inextricably
both shadows melting in the flames?

Your fingertip is touching fire,
is that you for me?
When I can no longer feel it, you reach for me,
like the fire atop the tallow’s
intimacy,
both shadows make candlelight’s flames.

To Dream in Autumn

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reaching into the night
outstretched arms inside
autumn’s rainfall
make peace within a lonely mind
whilst he still dreams
in a beautiful sleep
amid a lullaby’s pitter patter

gentle breaths extinguish
the oil lamp – disturbed fragrances
permeate the old wood
and ashes still warm
from his fire making way for dreams
and then sunlight where he would sit
for breakfast

his bowls is empty, and hollow hearts
sing in the distance as usual breezes
come to waft away the spirited
red leaves covering the steps
always cleared for him
to greet each new day; but today
a spent pot’s dying smells dissipate
into the cold air with him clutching
the rain as he leaves

Dawn (Ghazal)

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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.

 

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