Northern Solstice

Northern Solstice
Virginia Carraway Stark

Crisply glistening under the starlight
Although it was solstice
Skin was white as apple flesh
Naked after shedding her night colored cloak
She shivered under the northern lights
The longest day meant something here
Already the sun was edging its way
Up the rim of the craggy mountains
The glacier fed lake was still as the night
The stars reflected along with their
Siblings, the tinkling spirits of the northern skies
In the water that even now was only above freezing
She strode into the water, as visible as though it were day
Picked out in white silhouette in the light
Of the celestial spheres
Reflected in the cauldron of the mountains
The sharp pebbles pricked her feet
She didn’t notice, they were already numb
She dove under the water
And greeted the spirits of the dark
The lived under the roots of the mountains
Coming up rarely to disturb the high lakes
With their troubles
And watched the brief night
That was solstice in the north
A lonely and short time
Cold, silent and foreboding
As the threat the snow covered peaks
The only other audience
Brought with their specter
The only sound, the lady’s feet
kicking the water
in what remained of the night.

Prompt 21/H17- Starting Point Picture

The rain hadn’t stopped in days
Constant but light it dug into the psyche
A consistent pitter-patter on every surface
Some people got used to it…
Not us.

 

Local radio and news stations had gone out
Their signals drowned and downed by the rain
The channels were there but only added to the sound
An eerie buzzt-slick as each channel was flipped through
Some people gave up on it…
Not us.

The days still passed as madness blossomed
Roads were eroding, flooding, washed away
We piled on to the bus with hope and a faint hisst-erk
Each passenger alighting for a very different purpose.
Some people intended to stay…
Not us.

And as we rode in silence, phantoms to the driver
It started to make sense, these sounds
pitter-patter-bzzt-slick-hisst-erk
“We’re going to flood the Earth”
Some people called us madmen.
Not us.

Live

Now
Go
Fully
Live your life
No need to hold back
Waste not this opportunity

Opalescent Joy

A Paradelle:

A green realm, surrounded by birch
A green realm, surrounded by birch
Within the branches, fairies play
Within the branches, fairies play
Branches play within a birch realm,
The fairies – surrounded by green

Blossoms litter the forest floor
Blossoms litter the forest floor
Loose petals dance through the air like rain
Loose petals dance through the air like rain
Forest blossoms litter loose like air
The petals rain, dance through the floor

Girls with opalescent wings glide free
Girls with opalescent wings glide free
Their joy knows no bounds
Their joy knows no bounds
Opalescent joy bounds free with their
girls’ wings – knows no glide

No blossoms free the fairies’ floor
The realm surrounded by birch branches
Opalescent rain knows a green glide
Their joy bounds through air, litter
Loose petals with wings dance, play
Like girls within the forest

A Weed of Design

When the dandelions bloom, some think of them as weeds,

But bumblebees and honey bees glean nectar as they feed.

The lovely dandelion gives nourishment, so fair,

To creatures that buzz around and fly high up in the air.

Whoever that decided that they were yellow weeds

Never enjoyed the feast that to their palate pleased.

And then, how convenient to spread the seeds so wide–

A fluff carrying them on wind to places far outside!

Who could design a blueprint so perfect in design,

But God, our great creator; the One we call Divine.

Hour 17 PRELUDE

Slowly slowly
I am slipping

Yet more quickly
I am sipping

What once approached
The alchemical

Has steered its way
To the all comical

And if you think
This poem’s a gimmick

Then please avoid
The next hour’s limerick

Barranca (2019 Poem 13)

Barranca

Meandering through eucalyptus trees
Underneath a waning moon
Scent of wet earth rising up
I fear the dawn may come too soon

River waters full wth rainfall
Fan out your lovely auburn hair
We float here, naming constellations
Breathing in warm scented air

Stars shine in your gentle eyes
Our fingers now entwine
Skin tingling when we touch
Your old soul merging with mine

Hour 16 – Starting Over

Starting Over

 

It could happen

that one day

you will be sitting

in the same place you’ve

sat for years

and realize

that the cushion on the chair

is misshapen

that you have buried yourself

in papers and prioritizing

 

You’ve grown so accustomed

to the tiny acts

of spontaneous combustion

and skittering roaches

that dance in front of you

that you snuff them out

with your bare hand

carrying on

 

Your dreams speak to you

only of deadlines

catastrophes and detailed correspondence

even this you may survive

ritually washing them away with

a deluge of coffee

first thing

 

Then it may come to pass

that you look into the harried face

of someone you love

and dropping your bucket

down deep within your heart

come up with dirt and dry shoots

and see that you

have become a drought

 

Riot of colors or a woman’s mind ?

 

Prompt 21, Hour 17

Use one or more of the following images as a jumping off point to write a poem

 

A riot of bright colors

A collage of vibrant dreams

A rollercoaster of emotions

A garden of positive thoughts

A universe of beautiful creations

This is how a woman’s mind looks like

 

Prompt #17

Wild child,
with dandelion dreams
painting clear skies 
with dandelions 
floating mid air
suspended in divinity 
making wishes come true. 

Wild child with a wild heart
so open 
so raw
so vulnerable
so pure.

So full of love 
and kindness
it's almost infectious.
Tender heart 
wild child 
wishing upon dandelions.

here's to hope.
here's to you.

-Janice Raquela Mendonca