Tuesday Tunes [Delayed] – Poetry Through Music, #22, 2016

[Image from Pinterest] [Inspired by Low’s “Lullaby”:] His absence tangible in the rumpled duvet moulded to her form, she shifts, stretches, careful not to erase his presence. Memory of night before still clings to her flesh, air caresses her, sending goosebumps over her body; the thought of his lips moving up and down her skin….

Sunday Sonnet (Slightly Altered), #19, 2016

[Image from Pinterest] A morning of mist wherein her breath was that of wisps: a puff of air, not even her hair moved by breeze, but cloying, leaving tendrils to caress her cheek, moist.  Her gloves a possibility, even now – buzz of bees and wasps song of June; uneven pattern of summer weather culprit,…

Tuesday Tunes – Poetry Through Music, #21, 2016

[Image Author’s Own] [Inspired by Bach’s “Unaccompanied Cello Suite No. 4 in E-Flat Major, BMV 101: Prelude”:] She loved the way the woman held herself erect as the cello beside her, the way Frampton created  curls to mirror that scroll: so poised, and yet, music lay scattered around her. Outer sign of inner turmoil?  She wondered, gazing…

Tuesday Tunes – Poetry Through Music, #20, 2016

[Image from Pinterest] [Inspired by Dmitry Evgrafov’s “Sway”:] The Black Dog’s infamy proceeds it, but tonight’s arrival was unannounced. Hot breath panting in her face; heavy weight pressing on her chest. Tail swooshing at a funny angle, banging relentless against her temple: swish-swish-swish. Problem was, too, Black Dog’s companion canine, Insomnia, bouncing around her head;…

Tuesday Tunes – Poetry Through Music, #19, 2016

[Image from Pinterest] [Inspired by Winter Aid’s “The Wisp Sings”:] In her sleep, she turns, sighs gentle as a sleeping babe, hair washed out around her – fluid as her form, her temperament. For easy to anger, this goddess blue; a darker side she holds beneath the surface skin of waves: the deep of Mother…

Sunday Sonnet, #18, 2016

[Image by Richard Brocken] It calls to her, prisoner in cage of fabric.  Freedom it needs, freedom to sing out its soul, a tale of ancestors; kings and queens in stories of crafted wood.  Love made the captive and from love its voice, dove- like rises until hawk-like soars, ring of clouds a halo to its…