Napowrimo, ReadWritePoem, Saturday Scribes

seafaring soak

saturday scribes: the air we breathe; 3 words, overcome, chimera, canopy
read write poem: day 12, napowrimo; photo: bird sellerdolce babanne, flickr

the cognizant invisibility
of my digital clock
red light’s silent
thunderous ticking

it’s always this way
overcome with restless-ness
suspended sleep
even here with peace
lying beside me
in gentle waves of water

all wet
a quiet noise comes
the sandman
his twinkling  toes
and pink gold floating dust

cannot help but to
take flight the
midnight cool air
a singsong bird’s call
chimera dripping rainbow

we soon soar
peeling past the
canopy effervescent stars

subtlety steady
straight ahead
there’s nothing so like this
not even hot butttered
blueberry pancakes

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OneSingleImpression

again

one single impression no 50: movement
photo: bufivla, flickr

awaken sleepless
purple magic light aglow
venus brews housecalls

hot peppermint tea
darknesss channels harmony
night sounds quiet light

subtle shifts of time
birdcalls que the ticking clock
sleepy musings sear

boiling water shrieks
whacky wet ringing wishes
pours the soothing tea

soon back to dreaming
drenched in lemon peppermint
backstroke cools the heat

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PoefusionFriday5

contraction

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as an alien in a familiar territory, she could no nothing but mimic the cry of the others with the same purple plume. she loved the feeling of free flight and laughed out loud whenever she could. secluded in her effort to stay hidden, the others barely took notice of her strange complicated behavior, side-stepping the multi-colored cutlet with barely a missed step. finding her way to the other side, she notice the slight movement of soft brown grains of sand creating a sudden plication and then quickly disappear. unable to look away, she stepped closer, closer… soon sucked into the void of thresh her life forever changed in the shifting sands.
* * * * * * * * * *
Michelle’s Poefusion Friday Five this week are: thresh, plication, cullet, secluded, mimic
photo: jvverde flickr

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PoefusionFriday5, Poetry

embroidery

living in a secluded spot
unknown to most who pass
the fatigue of existence
began to ebb as a tide
called by the white moon

hours would pass
under the large oak tree
monotonous to most
filled with peace for few

chirping birds
filled the silence
as the thaw of ice began
* * * * * * * *
Poefusion Friday 5 this weeks five: fatigue, embroidery, secluded, monotonouse, thaw
photo: The Old Oak Tree – Squarerobherr, flickr

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