Spirited Away

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Picture: One of my arts/crafts pieces that I make and sell for my charity CRUK.   Ghost peacock painted on heavy slate.

Azure lawns cry,
stuck in the past
like dew tears
on dampened stones.
Sometimes
the darkness can be still be seen,
held tightly
between each
raw nerve,
each blade
of black grass
on which
dancers mop up tears,
waltzing the air
with ghost like peacock
fans over their broken faces;
pallid feathers
hover like wisps
of winter taking
one, last, look back.
Its memories
spill over
where those peacocks
once ran wild,
their rainbow fans
since crumbled to dust
to cover all that must
stay hidden while
Azure lawns cry.

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Premonition #DailyHaikuChallenge

 

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Spectres of winter
haunt nature’s nooks and crannies
leaves flee from presence

Day 18/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge.  Join in and link back to her blog.

Cracking Shins

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Corrupt hearts and cracking shins,
elicit all that is bad in us,
it surfaces in the night
when death’s courtiers
seek vengeance and atonement.

Spectres ravage putrid night air,
harbouring grim justice,
scabbed nostrils flare
at their own grumbling, aches and groans,
their bickering and jabbering
among bleary headstones
where slyly they plot and gleefully
they scheme
to repay their murderers
and savour their screams.
In freezing cold they’ve been pacing
these long ago hours,
stomping for warmth already dead flowers
as the rounded silver
of the moon’s howl dies down,
they shiver together their collective frowns;
the enticing warm soil, laid out below,
beckons ever so nicely
to the greying ghouls aglow;
‘On reflection, vengeance is overstated, silly –
do we really want justice –
on this night so damn chilly?’

Beseech (Minute)

boat and apricot tree

A Minute form.  Inspired by Michael’s rendition.

wouldst thou call upon love’s embrace
her cuffs of lace
will wrap warmly
and surround thee

as spectral lights adorn blewe sky
and ghosts loom nigh
from whence their place
to haunt your face

if thou were touched by such as she
and trumpery
wouldst thou forswear
at the black maire?

Loose Lips

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Lilac petals fall
like unconfined purple prose
leaping to its
      

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