24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Hope Springs Nocturnal
With the darkening of skies and closing of eyes,
dreams bring with them fresh doses of hope.
A refreshing burst of effervescent do-overs,
clean-slated seconds and the beginnings of new things.
As long as sleep wraps you in safe, deep slumber,
nothing can harm until the first lights of dawn.
Wooden boards beneath my head,
Cool sweet darkness
Hangs like a canopy over the lake
Sky full of stars share their glory
But this dance belongs to the moon.
Hour by hour I wait for the show.
Curtains up!
Watch the tango of the night sky,
La Lune et Belle, her lover draws her closer,
Hiding her shimmering frame.
Movement ever so sultry,
Gently gliding over her now
‘Til all I can see is her tiara
Sparkling in a lovers dip.
Now she’s gone, and I must go too.
Until the next amazing dance … fair thee well.
Kathleen J Kidder
August 13, 2016
12th hour prompt
(one of the many places I have called home)
I’ve lived in many places
Three countries I’ve called home
But I was always restless
a Gypsy..born to roam
A few times I’ve been homeless
but never on the street
I don’t remember going hungry
I’ve had shoes for my bare feet
We cannot know the troubles
that caused the homeless man
to live beneath the city bridge
or in an old abandoned van
what woman wants to raise her kids
in a torn and tattered tent?
Or feed them from the food bank
because she can’t pay rent
These we call “unfortunate”
we pass judgement on their lot
what happened to this Child of God
the World may have forgot
If we listened to their stories
of what broke them on their way
We’d find surprising reasons
for not all have gone astray
We’re called to be their Brother
or their Sister and to care
If by God’s Grace we’ve plenty
we have something we can share
Panic wears off
Lake life returns to retro glory days
Of teenage boys hanging off of jeeps
Holding soda pops
And teenage girls lounging
under canopies giggling about the boys
The disappearance of
ten high school kids the spring before
stings the town less and less
Runaways, the police said.
Impossible, a mother hissed.
she felt her son alive.
but not a runaway.
The ache of her breastbone told her so.
nightmare
she began to panic
when the black canopy
of night suddenly tore,
spilling a startled moon
into a nearby lake,
to lodge in her breastbone
so that she couldn’t breathe.
©Ardelle Hollis Ray
Bodies
Of ferns and furs,
O hibiscus and horns,
Meet like two colliding spacial lakes
In eclipse.
Their bodies are seen
In the canopy of forest rufage
And in fallen feathers and lost bones.
They are the bark on tree spirits
And the whiskers on a spirit guide.
Their energies run through
Oxygen and blood.
They are panic and glory
In every hunting and hunted beast.
They breathe through stems and breastbones,
Leaves and femurs.
Their spirits touch
To create great beauty.
As the night falls and darkness descends
The moon rises to it’s full glory
Lighting up the dark lake
Beautiful in it’s presence
And the world within
Away from the light
Under the shade of the canopy
Resting her head upon a tree
Her panic stricken beautiful eyes
Wander around to see, any hint of shadows
There is none and she is calm
Moving out into the light
She makes her way to the lake
Her silver gown cascading after her
Her hair ruffled by the wind.
Suddenly the silence of the night
Is shattered by the galloping of horses
And in one swift movement
She is swept off her feet
And carried into the night
Her beautiful eyes now full of fear
As she raises them to the face of the stranger
He sees the scared look and stops
Smiling sheepishly, he apologises to her
Says he couldn’t help surprising her.
For a moment, her face is expressionless
Then it breaks into a smile
As she looks into the eyes of her lover
And forgives his mischievious endeavor
As they ride towards the lake under the moonlight together.
Wine SNITS (Snobs In Training)
The evening starts slowly.
Nibbling hors d’oeuvres.
Looking, swirling, sniffing, tasting.
Thoughtfully pouring, discussing, considering
Cherries, hints of blueberries, notes of leather and tobacco.
Grassiness and minerality.
Some oak. Too much?
Alcohol content. Alcohol?
More talking. Less sniffing. More swilling.
Gulps replace sips.
Appetizers disappear.
Raucous laughter and boisterous conversation.
Training ends on a high note.
The training is never done.
By Sue Storts
08/13/2016
Noises in my house
cat crunchy food
cat chasing foam darts
around dining room table legs
fan swooshing air around
AC not enough with high humidity
saws and drills
from carpenter son downstairs
rarely a quiet moment.
In the glory of their love
The lovers embrace
Under the canopy of nightfall
The moon lights their radiance
No panic, no haste
Only passion
By the lake side, the blanket of gold
Envelopes the lovers in
The Kiss