crumbling lady edifices crucifix

 

Dark-vowelled smoking columns aspire ruin

as dust-tongued, forested roof caves innavely;

water-spoken island surrenders to timbers

of flamed and lillified heaven-circling pyre.

 

Aghast of tragedy, fire-dwarfed gargoyles are

hearting a tear-culled Paris in hymnally tone

to dignify bell-voiced ash of towering ages;

above rubble, The King’s cross, power-gilded stands.

 

 


Linking to dVerse poetics with Laura Bloomsbury and loving the hyphenate-coined words by poet Dylan Thomas (as featured in my poem).

fragile beauty

Tan renga “chained together” at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

 

between dusty cars

an orange butterfly flits

the traffic rumbles                   – Kim Russell

 

 

truck hauls grain down gravel road

cloud of dust covers milkweed

      – lynn

 

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photo by lynn

dust to dust

Link to Sammi Cox’s weekend prompt on “destiny”.


no survivors here

man wrestles with destiny

life’s dash etched in stone

listen in cemetery

silence of eternity

“But still, like dust, I’ll rise” – Maya Angelou

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photo by lynn

inexorable time

In response to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai “Road to Santiago” word:  time


 

where will journey lead?

wisdom contemplates life’s end

we return to dust

 

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photo by lynn – Floyd Cemetery, Sioux City

my dust bunny’s bigger

 

The day you tell your vacuum to “suck it up” but bag’s full to bursting.

 


An “american sentence” of 17 syllables.  Here’s to a clean new year!

O little town…


 

“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” –Isaiah 55:12

 

Everyone lives in a little town

obscure village, speck in space

lost in universe we are but dust

 

Creator sees, our father knows

us too intimately, enters a virgin

(god in a womb)  angels sing glory!

 

He came and is coming still to

every little town, knocks at door

will you let great JOY move… inn?

sevenling (fantasy)

 

if dust were diamonds,

asphalt was gold, and

trees’ leaves paper money,

 

we’d sneeze on greed

drive over wealth, con~

sider banks quite funny!

 

fantastical, our discontent would blow away with wind~

 


Linking to dVerse Poetics with Lillian on “fantasy” theme…

 

as the farmer…life

 

as intense eyes

scan darkening skies,

playful wind flaps shirt sleeves.

 

as strong shoulders

stack square hay bales,

rising dust covers tanned skin.

 

as nimble feet

climb grain bin ladder,

straw chaff infiltrates flaxen hair.

 

as skillful hands

manipulate diverse tools,

old grease wedges under fingernails.

 

as experienced ears

attune engines musical noise,

stale soybeans nest in jean pockets.

 

as determined teeth

test corn kernel moisture,

rich manure clings to chore boots.

 

as gentle arms

carry bawling calf or kitten,

pelting rain drips off seed cap bill.

_______

This is a “list poem”, 

inspired by and dedicated to my farmer.

Linked to d’Verse Poets