sink me: a haiku

floating seaweed by Fay Collins sea blue paints my lips---grinning red. ready to sinkinside seaweeds' arms. — 11.25.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via https://faycollinsart.co.uk/This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. For dVerse: Tuesday Poetics: Fay Collins revisited. - Wrote a haiku for this painting by Fay Collins. As a tropical woman born in the lovely… Continue reading sink me: a haiku

safe

when i find it hard to see things that can make my old heart glad, i remember the scared eyes of my one-year-old self. my small arms hugging my then thin dad. at early 20's, with his hair middle-parted. on his left hand was a pink, birthday balloon, on his lips a small smile. his… Continue reading safe

talking to myself: a wayra

hush. whispers the moonto my walking worry. shh.shallow faith, sink and savorsuch unsure shore. in your night dress, count holy graces. hush. — 11.19.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via UnsplashThis work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. For dVerse: Poetry Form: The Wayra - Thank you, Grace, for featuring my poem there and for levelling… Continue reading talking to myself: a wayra

our Christmas lights

Made of wood - old unnamedwood - our tiny home. Fragilein the surface. Look beneath.After a minimum of 20 typhoons per year, it's still proud after acouple of decades. Unlikethe tamarind tree, the acacia,the guava, the hibiscus, thebanana. September is clothe in blinking little lights. The countdown forthe manger starts. It is a season of… Continue reading our Christmas lights

hearing hummingbird: a novilinee*

Behind the grills of painted metal, Itry to find the source of song I'm hearing,some leaves started dancing with wind so dry,then comes the busy wings flapping, flapping.A hummingbird with honeyed beak, tiny,oblivious of watching eyes - for good.No one wants to be watched when it's windy,and nectar hides inside the flower's hood."Close your eyes… Continue reading hearing hummingbird: a novilinee*

cloud’s sunburn

Three chili plants remaining, I once thought they would succumb after I almost drowned them with neem oil because of pesky ants. Together in a pot, amidst many stormy nights, it's always a surprise when I see them breathing in silent delight. Yes, with wrinkled leaves, but at least, still alive.But these clouds are clearly… Continue reading cloud’s sunburn

an afternoon: a mirrored refrain*

Choir of August rain singsTo soil and cloud just married,Though the door is open wideMy feet remains buried.A cup of tea, I made,With cubed sugar on the side,My feet remains buriedThough the door is open wide.Silence sat beside me With light solitude carried,Though the door is open wideMy feet remains buried. Grey sky may seem… Continue reading an afternoon: a mirrored refrain*

someone stood still on a globe for 50 minutes

heard it's bad to stand so longthink ankle hurting calves groaning but spine will also complain about sitting from first roosters call to the sun's departure ihave been standing stillagainst the wind ofvirus that killed my airplane-bound-homeuntil how long? — 08.04.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons… Continue reading someone stood still on a globe for 50 minutes

talisman

flowers,petals. your charm.soft, silky worn by lilies, wild daffodils, on your head they sit and take tea, Persephone. do they wilt as yourscented toes step towards your beloved's grave? because the leaves do.because the leaves do. — 08.04.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International… Continue reading talisman

the lost city

He who hesitates is lost. Unless you are a handkerchief,a ponytail, a forgotten umbrella,a violet hairpin, some princesspaper dolls, my first pair of gold earrings.Those that were once mine.I could build a castle, a mega city, a hydroponic building of lost things thanks to my hesitant hands. — 29.07.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo… Continue reading the lost city