open your eyes, see how the world undresses: a quadrille

(revolving earth
undresses, each
season unravels)

spring, peeler of
silent blue winter,
blush in pastel young
blooms, will then
succumb to laughing
rays of golden sun,

salted seas curdle
to scarlet red as
autumn conquers
the rusting lawns,

(revolving earth
undresses, each
season unravels)

02.25.2020
©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
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For dVerse Quadrille #98 – Peelings, Nothing More…
Today I offer you the word “peel” to include in your quadrille.
You may use it as a noun or a verb or play with it as a derivative….peelable, unpeelable. unpeeled.
You can “peel off” or “peel out”.
Are you a “peeler”? Do you save your peelings or throw them away?

thank you winter, for letting the spring in: a haibun

When I was young there was this Koreanovela titled Winter Sonata, a part of a series titled Endless Love. I was nine or maybe 10, innocent and clueless, but that was my first encounter with you— season of snowflakes and magic.

It has been more or less three decades and you remain a dream to me. To watch how your fairy flakes fall ever so slowly, from heaven to the waiting parched earth. How your tiny drops can eventually cover a city’s entire map. How you serve as natural soundproofing, silencing the murmurs of the earth for a few months.

While some links your beauty with gloom and doom (let’s face it, you can also be cruel), but as was written, “What’s essential is invisible to the eye”, we, we mere mortals were not able to witness the kingdom you protect behind your thick coating. We do not know that inside you sleep pregnant seeds and there you nurture them away from any predators. And how unselfishly you melt, little by little, vacating the streets and roads you conquered, knowing it’s time for births, and it’s time for you to go.

Under white blanket,
hide so patient, tender twigs.
Hello, spring sunshine.

02.04.2020
©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
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Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For dVerse Haibun Monday 2/3/2020: Spring
Let’s put a little spring into our step today, shall we? Let’s spring into action. Or let’s just enjoy that first taste of spring. After all, Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early Spring on Ground Hog’s Day. Yesterday’s temperatures, at least in New York’s backyard, warmed to spring low temperatures.

snowdrops and broken hearts: a monorhyme*

Pluck one, and then two,
hold those tears, though true,
“He loves you not.” Chew

perished juice— his rue.
Pluck three, four, five. Phew.
Let him go. Adieu.

Enough of flower’s woo,
your chapter is through.
Spit the seed ‘side you.

Beside your window’s view,
sink yesterday’s blue,
water with hope’s brew.

Wait for spring’s hue
where snowdrops grew.
Pluck not, rebirthed. New…

11.28.2019
©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Urban Prah on Unsplash
For dVerse Poetics: Sylvia and Ted.
The challenge is to write a poem in the format and style of either Plath or Hughes. It must be about something that grows or multiplies and is in some way invasive.
I picked Plath’s format: Plath’s lines are very short, with nearly every line consisting of five syllables; Plath’s poem is arguably feminine in tone.
I also used the monorhyme format – which means all lines are rhyming. 🙂

Lost Lavender

Forgive me, my creator
but I feel you are a traitor,
for painting me with friendly color
and gifting me with healing odor,
but letting me be a protector
of a poisonous aggressor.

In this human court
judging me physically,
my defense is my fragrant grace,
and my pale petals’ serenity,
yet the prosecution argues
I am a symbol of distrust only—
my soft stalks cloaked in fallacy
is the home of fangs so deadly.

In between this irony,
who am I really?
I guess you have to tell me,
your humans are too divided,
I can’t trust them, I’m sorry.

05.02.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

Inspiration is the Lavender
Lavender
Serenity, Grace, Calmness,Distrust*
*Primary sentiment for “lavender” is based in the superstition that poisonous asps live under
lavender plants; therefore, “distrust” lavender plants. This is probably the most extreme example of a flower sentiment that is not really associated the actual flower blossom.
In response to dVerse The Language of Flowers

Book Quotes: Rain in the Mountains

Rain in the Mountains: Notes from the Himalayas

Rain in the Mountains: Notes from the Himalayas by Ruskin Bond

      Rating: ❤❤❤❤


As I remember that this blog is A Reading Writer, and as I want to fuel my reading pace again, I’ll start to post quotations and wise words I loved from my recent reads, starting with Rain in the Mountains by India’s very own Wordsworth in prose, Mr. Ruskin Bond.

This book holds a special place in my heart as it is a gift from my beloved. He gave it to me on our first trip in the majestic Himalayas. The first few pages were read during our 12-hour night-shift train ride going back to Kolkata.

It made me laugh, cry, grimace, scared, blush, think, laugh, and think some more. Here are the best words, the top five quotes that I would like to share with you:

  1. “A Quiet Mind Lord, give me a quiet mind, That I might listen; A gentle tone of voice, That I might comfort others; A sound and healthy body, That I might share In the joy of walking And leaping and running; And a good sense of direction So I might know just where I’m going!”
  2. Some people become an integral part of our lives; others are ships that pass in the night. Short stories, in fact.

    Image result for forest gif

  3. “When the earth gave birth to this tree, There came no sound: A green shoot thrust In silence from the ground. Our births don’t come so quiet— Most lives run riot— But the bud opens silently, And flower gives way to fruit. So must we search For the stillness within the tree, The silence within the root.”
  4. “I am still on my zigzag way, pursuing the diagonal between reason and heart.”

  5. “Little one, don’t be afraid of this big river. Be safe in these warm arms for ever. Grow tall, my child, be wise and strong. But do not take from any man his song. Little one, don’t be afraid of this dark night. Walk boldly as you see the truth and light. Love well, my child, laugh all day long, But do not take from any man his song.

©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash & Giphy.com

s a n c t u a r y

Clothed pair of soles
dressed in faux leather top
and synthetic rubber pants,

clanking, clanking,
against the cobbled,
sometimes cemented
concrete jungle paths,

dreams to be
bare and naked
against the foliage
of the fallen petals
of Autumn trees,

ready and brave
to be pricked with
the crisp and thin
sun-dried twigs,

for the slave feet of the city
yearns to be the lost queen
of the wild—

the sanctuary
of the soul’s respite.

05.02.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Let’s Get Wild!

P a s s a g e

The fading light, this old day done,
the endless sea swallows yet another sun.
As moon rises high over waters calm –
calling out stars hiding in the velvet night’s arms –
morning’s close by with a brand new dawn.

01.18.2017
F.T. Ledrew x R. C. Gonzales

(Thank you for the second collab, Thomas! ;))

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when rain reigns

while i try
to rein on my
stubborn and elusive
sense of worth,

the rain reigns
against the sun rays
with its freed droplets
of crystals
kissing the waiting,
parched earth.

may i find
the purpose of my
birth, with the petrichor’s
coming mirth.

09.14.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Liv Bruce on Unsplash

In response to Quadrille #40 by whimsygizmo and Rein ’em in! lillian! (i hope i am not too late! :D)
dverse

 

mummed magic

the scarlet leaf
of the almost bare autumn tree,
s  l  o  w  l  y , ever s  l  o  w  l  y ,
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
from its home twig
to its grave earth.

the crystal snowflake
of the heavy, winter cloud
g e n t l y , ever g e n t l y ,
d
e
s
c
e
n
d
i
n
g
from its throne in heaven
to its melting ground.

the brave sprout
of the fresh, spring seed
s o f t l y , ever s o f t l y ,
e
s
c
a
p
i
n
g
its cotyledons’ cave
towards the sky’s bright, open shade.

the soft, infant rays
of the smiling, summer sun
g e n t l y , ever g e n t l y,
b
u
r
s
t
i
n
g
into tiny sparkles of warmth
to kiss the waiting land.

these are earth’s mummed magic,
they need no noise to be majestic.

P.S. Is it evident that I fantasize about four seasons too much? 😀
09.06.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Matt Lewis on Unsplash

In response to Magic by Paul of paul scribbles.
So my poetic pals, your task if you choose to accept it, is to pen a poem using the word MAGIC in some form or write a piece that is quite simply MAGICAL. You know you can.
dverse