Summertime Faith, by Alicia Wright

Summertime Faith

Myriad of contented days filled with uphill climb, swinging into soulful blue beyond burgundy maple trees lining the perimeters of my imagination.

Suspended somewhere in time,

freshly mowed pastures and jumping off haystacks.

Learning to take one moment and live in it, and love it wholeheartedly.

Regardless of who is or isn't around,enjoying long summertime mornings,stretching into late evenings as sunset kisses moonlight sky goodnight.

Chasing fireflies by the Atlantic rocky beach in a small New England town while sleepy time beckons me to say my prayers before going to bed.

I have faith in my childhood.

Days of summer linger like promising stars, brightening my sky of hope.

Wild, by Carol Peters

Wild

quirquincho
the screaming hairy armadillo
digs the hole I fill daily
next to the garden wall

wild, the young hare
beds among zucchini
shiny black eye

wild fountains of sand
the ocultos architect
underground mazes

wild, the giant snail oozes
across asphalt
pink-rimmed pallium

wild, the parrot flocks
patrol fruiting vineyards
the sky screams

wild foxes, bald with mange
one by one, dead
for the black vultures feeding

wild, the turquoise-spotted toad
buried overnight
in the sprinkler box

wild, the whistling heron
yellow plumes fan
along the riverbed

wild slaty-breasted wood rail
the plumbeous rail
deep in the pond lilies

wild, the vines
bearing cayote squash
scraped & boiled for jam

wild cactus, the prickly pear
long spines spear
my hat’s crown

wild, the verdolaga
common purslane
succulent scourge for the weeder

wild, the dung-feeding beetles
noon mists of grasshopper
palm-sized bats at dusk

wild pink-spotted hawkmoth
wings battering bathroom tile
under the cat’s paws

wild, the tyrant flycatcher
morning’s choral voice
benteveo
benteveo

Let Me Tell You About the Wild, by Leah Lubin

Let Me Tell You About the Wild, by Leah Lubin

 

Out there alone when we are together,
you ask me continuously about my personal truth.

“Which part are you interested in?” I inquire. 
“The wild side”, I hear you say.

“Are you sure?” 
If so, let me tell you about the wild. 

It needs certain elements to be involved: 
Like rock and roll. 
Mary Jane’s greenest herbs. 
Good food that inspires. 
Great tea or even Hawaiian coffee. 
But most of all, the right people have to be included.

OK.  I understand.  So then, what happens? 
Well, a door opens. 
I become myself, but more real. 
I say what I want. 
Do what I want. 
Make things happen.

“Is rock the only form of music involved?” you ask. 
No, no. 
Reggae, hip hop, rap, jazz, blues, and country all invited. 
“So, let’s go”, you say. 
Coming, I say.

How Would You Describe A Miracle?, by Leah Lubin

How Would You Describe A Miracle?

by Leah Lubin

I am writing to tell you about what’s going on.

I am waiting for major changes in my world.

How would you describe a miracle about to take place but you don’t know when, where, or even how?

“Why, why do you need a miracle?” I hear you say.

Well, that’s what it’s going to take for the shift to happen in my life so that I can continue my work in art and literature, and still be true to the human aspect of me.

The woman inside.

Love Poem, Poets' Circle Collaboration

Love Poem

 

Love, from seed to seed, from planet to planet

Memorialize a moment

Like paint on canvas.

Sweet surrender.

Hot canvas.

Cool nights

With love like a knife.

At my back

before me…

Only the light

bright and pure and cutting

 like a knife.

Make my day and make it a delight!

Open to hot gluttony and undulate like sweet ambrosia before God.

Sing with lavish violet verve, a tin lizzie of clematis.

The flowers brightened like a flame

Then faded and dropped to the ground.

--Group Poem

Watsonville Public Library, Poets’ Circle

February 14, 2013

(“Love, from seed to seed, from planet to planet” from a sonnet by Pablo Neruda)