When I’m Wrapped in Night…

I love the Fall… the way its dark forces us to see with more than our eyes, to feel so much more. Spring and Summer are glorious, but few things in Nature’s circular dance can equal the yumminess that brews out of the reds and golds (and indispensable grays) of Autumn. I love this season so much that my delight always seeps into my Muse’s bones. See?

wild blooms burn
crimson, as I wait
for the fall

When I’m wrapped in night,
my dream song is full
of your mouth and hands.
Can you hear my hips
dancing your touch home?

Some days, you must bite
right into the heart, if you want
to taste the sweet and sour
balance of pleasure.

other bits…
– If you’ve yet to read my “Felt Words”, do take a look-see. Then help me see where the story will go next. At the moment, our protagonist is being seduced by a stranger’s mind-kindling ink. I wonder… Future installments will be published on Fridays.
– I shall announce this year’s Witches in Fiction theme on October 1st.
I asked friends on Facebook to choose which poetic tale they wanted me to rebirth in October. It is only fair that I also ask you. So, which would you like, my Wicked Luvs, “Sexy, Dark and Bloody” or “Belle du Freak”?
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

My Piano Man Captures a Sweet Family Moment

My in-laws’ garden grows all sorts of beauties. This summer, we were greeted by bright roses, fragrant basil, and a black-eyed Susan dressed in blushing autumnal yum.

The garden was the center of this year’s vacation. My Piano Man spent most of his time building a raised garden bed. Watching him work was fun and then some… *giggles*.

Yes, I helped. I needed a socially acceptable reason to have fun with a sledgehammer, an ax, a cutter mattock, a shovel…

Don’t believe that it was all work. There was county fair enjoyment, birthday celebration, sunset delight, relaxing at the beach…

…the Little Princess made herself into art and everything.

My favorite picture from the trip: while my Piano Man tries to capture a sweet family moment (he shared his intent), the Little Princess completely ignores him (she was busy screaming at crows), my in-laws don’t hear him (they were looking at a barge that was transporting a house), I show my maturity and attentiveness by sticking my tongue out. But, be honest, he is so handsome that you probably wouldn’t have noticed us anyway.

Our trip to Friday Harbor is always the perfect end to the summer. It gets us ready for the madness to come. October is nuts around here—fall shows for my Piano Man, pre-winter tests for me, and Nature doing her yearly striptease… one leaf at a time. Perfect.

 

High on Spring Blues

I wrote this poem a few years ago, on the first spring after my little brother flew out of his flesh and bones. I remember thinking that loss alters the way most of us relate to everything… even the changes of the season.   

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There’s birdsong on my page…
words I planted in midnight soil
are blooming memories of you.

Louder than death and time,
your soul sings to me of life:

“Dance your sobs
into undying laughter,”

I hear you chant,

“let the joy lift your heart
(high on Spring Blues)
and stitch our eternal tale
on the ventricular walls
of my forever home.”

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Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.