Bookcases

 
The bookcases of one-by-six planed pine
All screwed to dark but open basement beams
Are how I feel the language of my dreams
Twist hidden deep within each antique line.

I rarely read these books and none are fine
And no one wants them anymore it seems.
Like waters from some minds' now frozen streams
They'd flow for someone’s eyes, perhaps for mine.

Sometimes when lost I find a letter there
Recalling handwriting from someone dear
Suggesting paths forsaken in the past.
The words she wrote were reasoned well with care.
The details I forgot are once more clear.
The present waits then leads me home at last.

Linked to dVerse Poetics where Lillian is hosting with the theme of writing about something in your home that speaks to you and to last weeks’ Meeting the Bar with the sonnet theme.

Three Crows Come to Visit

Yellow Blooms

Their beauty’s only here for days.
Their pretty ways
We want to last
Too soon have passed.

Like every joy we’ve tried to hold,
Like yellow gold,
Like dreams come true
Come touched by blue.

The flowers tried. We’re on their sides.
The present hides
Yet yearns to show
Where all dreams go.


I am hosting today at dVerse. The form is the minute form illustrated above. You can find directions on how to write this at http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/minute.html.
Photo: “Yellow Blooms” by the author and linked to jasenphoto’s Tuesday Photo Challenge — Yellow.
I also linked this to Floral Friday Fotos.

The Clock and the Now

The time labelled ‘past’ had an end
And the future we guess with a trend.
But the present is real
Like a now we can feel
That the clock tries but can’t comprehend.


Written for the Limerick Challenge Week 52: The End.
Photo: “Wiggly Trees and Mellow Lake” by the author