We spoke for hours that dusty cloud day,
Grandfather and I in a dented rowboat,
Fishing lines poised over a cool, still lake,
Yet with water surrounding,
We caught by surprise, threads interweaving,
To something deeper, a gathering place.
44 words for d’Verse this week. The prompt: Troll
Together, our moments, first gently, awaken this
Unexpected, fragile flicker.
Warmth rises from deep within,
Blush rushes to my surfaces,
Exposing my quietest secret.
Your voice is autumnal afterglow,
Baritone whisper a sip of fine wine.
My lips part, always wanting one drop more.
This week’s d’Verse Poet’s Pub’s quadrille prompt (44 words): ‘sip’.
We could not capture the rhythm nor rhyme of each other’s stories.
Conversations weaved and wandered, mundane and misunderstood.
We heard sentences not sentiments,
Feigned commitment to our cause.
Curiosity faded so we cast hopes towards the stars.
Too many explanations spoiled our love.
44 words for d’Verse Quadrille prompt today: ‘Spoil’
What molten rage appears behind frosted windows
Your panic rises, scorching, then cools icy and remains
Tempers your home cannot, scarcely, contain
Trembling crumbles your well planned calm
You’ve known the truth for far too long
A wink, a blink, a flash, you’re gone.
d’Verse quadrille: 44 words using the prompt ‘wink’ (which admittedly I used in a darker way).
I love the early morning on dark rain pitter-patter days
When the hours after will stretch out unspoken for
When the choices of time are only mine
The serenity of the cool pavement filled with water from sodden clouds
Bursting at the seams to unburden themselves
To share the sadness created, brought together from a thousand miles
Clouds see a thousand sights, stretch slowly, stretch slow lee across the gray skies
What do they see? Only tops of buildings, apex of trees trying to touch them
Or do clouds fill themselves with the thoughts of those whose lives they cover and uncover
Are clouds full of memories and is that why they rain?