Seven #Quadrille

 

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Quadrille for dVerse.  Other entries can be found here.

Black gossamer strands,
like grasping fingers,
pitch against
the brightest moon glow,
reaching and writhing
effortlessly, beckoning
wild, tepid winds of the night.
Silence bore chaotic sounds,
nature’s heartbeat
quickened as thunderous hooves
brought seven stallions
majestically to the bough of a leafy bend.

 

Screaming Shame #Quadrille

screaming windscreaming wind-tree-asitcomes

Foul words on screaming winds
attach to me vicious lies.
Soft in approach,
loud in defiance –
suckers lavish wounds
already frayed –
betrayal saps my strength.
Let its scorched touch
be enslaved by innocence,
and mercy unknown to me,
drop gentle from heaven.

A Quadrille is a new poem form consisting of 44 words.

Mysterioso ~ Quadrille

viscous_honey

Don’t mend
the strangest dreams;
the straddled, muddy gateways
to our wilder streams
without bridges
at their seams.
They brim with
future scapes,
tepid in colour,
but rampant in verve.
They’re marching o’er still acres,
heart to heart,
trickling like viscose life
never could.

A quadrille is a 44 word poem.

Pane #Quadrille

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Tapping rain becomes the omen,
blackbirds pecked once here before,
feeding at your safety harness
before the window cut through your shade
and more; crumpled, slain, within your own
reflection, you are shattered glass singing
shrill and bleakly, before quietly resting,
as confetti floor.

Lilac #Quadrille

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Smother my pulse
in timeless grains of sand,
let its broken glass bedeck
my wrists
where stranded pearls, no longer wise,
once worshiped summer’s heroes.
My lilac demise
is well hidden from winter,
long gone without me –
time is all that is left.

*A Quadrille is a verse consisting of 44 words.

Silks (Quadrille)

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winter leans with content patience
in white silk – clandestine
matters cannot be hurried –
a buttery drawl drags the last
overflow of beauty until
blossoms imitate snowflakes in flight,
held captive by night –
adrift but not alone –
sumptuous satin wafts breezy

 

Hangman’s Use

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(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.

 

Cardinal (Quadrille)

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Picture:  Sock Monkey while on nature walk with questions of deepness.

Quadrille poetry form = 44 words & red bird. Thank you monkey.

Sins that stain a royal perch
are preened like smooth, red
berries –
but those of the cardinal’s beatific
corvax satin
hang on staggered boughs
like broken bread fed worshippers;
high and mighty – aloof.
Masquerading aloft, he knows
where you all are.

 

 

Jazz (Quadrille)

11007491-Saxophone-on-a-wooden-bench-in-autumn-Stock-Photo-saxophone-musicPicture: Benjamin Haas

44 words. Quadrille #15 Leaves.  Other entries here.

spine tingling tunes
work me up and down like
shivers – my hands dance;
each one like trembling jazz’s
autumnal leaves vibrating from my core –
connected nerves trace the crisp, white leaves
of a music book’s inky black saxophones
giving clarity to my
strumming fingertips.

2nd draft – more autumnal

Seasonal tingling tunes
work me up and down like
shivers – my hands dance;
each one trembling like autumn’s
jazzed leaves vibrating from shed trees –
connected nerves trace the crisp leaves
of a music book’s inky black saxophones
giving clarity to summer’s numbing,
strumming, fingertips.