dawn goddess celebrator of the hopeful Aurora offers cresting radiance beams definitively sky filled breaking over mountains dim a daily gesture of newness of beginnings yet to be let her shine on you morning overflowing fill your cup with levity walk lightly through heaviness ©Ali Grimshaw 2022 Join me in celebrating the 11th Anniversary of dVerse Poet's Pub, - HERE. Quadrille # 155, Let's Celebrate
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The Gift – Poem by Ali Grimshaw
He bought it used. It was heavy and solid like home. Soon he began to peel the layers away. It was painted antique green and underneath she remembered a layer of white, then bright orange. She was not sure what the the other colors were but it had been coated and recoated by many who had different preferences. He spent hours cleaning away paint brushed into the crevices and cracks. It was a labor of care to reach the wood grain underneath all of those years. She watched him work off and on knowing he would continue. He told her it would be hers but her doubt piled up with the days. Through the sanding and peeling of hours of evenings. It was taking a long time, so much time and more than he realized it would. After all of that scraping away to bring the beauty to light, she knew that it couldn’t be passed to another, even a daughter that he loved. It wouldn’t be hers now. Not because it was an antique piano, but because of the time it took him to bring it back to life. When he said, “Yes, of course it is yours.” She was surprised by the love of those hours. It remains with her today.
winter through window
gold sunlight gleams in wood grain
warming to the touch
©Ali Grimshaw 2021 Haibun Monday at dVerse - Join us.
And the questions keep coming – poem by Ali Grimshaw
They come as colors with overlapping sides or frayed edges and in the transition of time often mix into each other. They come with thick bold boundaries, holding the fierce hues that refuse to be diminished or mellowed by new arrivals. They come as evaporated mist close enough to dampen my skin, yet just out of reach to clearly articulate in sounds. They come regardless of time of night, often dancing to distract while I am in the middle of a conversation intent on listening. They come generously not asking or demanding, but in hope that I will allow them to teach me how feeling them could be different than finding their answers. © Ali Grimshaw 2021 Photo taken in Porto, Portugal 2017 Come explore opening lines on dVerse today MTB: Opening lines…beginnings Cee's Stacked or Piled up Challenge
Check the correct box – Poem by Ali Grimshaw
How we name ourselves keeps us separate, collected or behind fences. What if we lost all labels to the wind? Started over with a single hello. Here is a new and rare being a species my brain cannot categorize outside of any box, never encountered right before my own human eyes. How wonder would fill me with the awe of you. © Ali Grimshaw 2021 dVerse - Poetics:Connections A wonderful community of writers reside on dVerse Poets Pub. Come join in the fun. Photo of mural taken in Auray, France. 2019
This is not a pair of shoes
This dancing couple has grace swinging and swirling across the floor while never leaving each other's side. One with a worn toe from accenting turns The other steady centered, to spin in balanced pleasure. I long to slip into their magical trance it has been a long while since they have been out on a date. As I pull them from the closet I smile with the miles of songs we traveled together. Both have matched many steps to anxious cold handed partners tentative hesitance of beginners ease of familiar firm arms. This pair is a portal to playfulness open to all ages, they remain timeless in their relationship. A long lasting love story between them to be lived again and again until their soles have worn away. © Ali Grimshaw 2021 Come join the fun on dVerse with Poetics: Object Poems Dedicated to all my social dancing friends and anyone who is missing the joy of dancing together.
Broken shadows across the cracked ground smoke ghosts reside in charred places once nestled home spaces, closed doorways of tomorrow silent squatters drift among dreams to imagine rain, please rain. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 dVerse Poets Pub Challenge NONET – a nine line poem that begins with 9 syllables, descending line by line to 1 syllable. * First line of this poem taken from W.S. Merwin,“To the Light of September”
Alongside the Tent – poem by Ali Grimshaw
My bare feet travel riverside down the dust talcum path. They feel the way forward while softly grounded in the fine dirt. As the bank of trees lean to shade, the river glides past, over and around rocks. Here it seems effortless for lives of birds, fish and plants to thrive together. None needing to shame or blame. Is it just my interpretation or have the living of the river ecosystem always known that there is enough for all, that everyone’s time will someday pass, that we will someday be nourishment for the next in line and there is peace in the acceptance of being a part of the changing cycle? There seems to be balance here. The kind of balance I am always seeking. As I hike up the pants, I have yet to grow into, I wonder if humans really are the more evolved species. It seems that I have so much to learn from the Osprey’s willingness to try again and the way rivers shift course without blaming the logs that have fallen to block their route. As I pack up my tent site I am already planning my return.
The river knows flow transforming place without shame forgiving teacher © Ali Grimshaw 2020 Haibun Monday, 8/31/20:Take a Hike! Join in the sharing at dVerse Poet's Pub.
Ripen – Poem by Ali Grimshaw
dVerse ~ Poets Pub OLN – Come and explore this great community of poets.
tended affectionately organic prizes plumped primed by summer's passion heat and BB King's blues quenching warmth gathering of sunlit kisses red ripe to tango with your tongue and mine slip into my backyard delight in this tender flesh this ready to please moment of this temporary season. © Ali Grimshaw 2020 (rewrite from 2018)
What has yet to Appear – Poem by Ali Grimshaw
We are balancing between the blocks of our days large and small. Squares filled with the demands of our days and squares now left open. Boxes where plans once sat in happy company with future anticipation. Now canceled without pattern. Just scattered openings in the grid. Emptiness at first look, then disbelief. As we walk farther down the street, grief standing next to disappointment. Finally we turn the corner and see a tiny new patio garden. Someone is intent on growing beauty from strong willed, concrete pots. The first sprouts are just reaching free.
Determined seeds rise
there is always a crack, wide
enough for thriving
This Haibun Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub we have a visual prompt. It was an new adventure for me. Click here to join the challenge.