Perils of the Cobbled Path – dVerse – Cobbled Quadrille Poem

Walking above hidden trenches and valleys

Not noticeable unless you ride a bike or try running in heels.

Love is wonderful, but if you don’t look where you step

Cobbled stones will trip and break you.

So be careful where you guide your heart

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Reset – dVerse poem

catrin-welz-stein-6

 

My exhaustion poured out of the decorated cup

laid me bare for all to see the real me.

 

No covers, no mask, just the purity of me.

Straight from the cup-

strong despite the tiredness in my soul-

honest despite the dark toxicity of the world around me.

 

Poured forth on the greens of the earth to rejuvenate me

breathing the freshness of my youth through the greens of the land;

a flower blooms above my ear as proof of the process of rebirth.

 

Let me lie still to repair all aches and awaken refreshed

to start again on another day.

Give me solace on the break of dawn

to rise again renewed yet revolutionized to face all that comes my way.

 

Image by artist Catrin Welz-Stein, featured at

 https://www.redbubble.com/de/people/catrinarno?ref=account-nav-dropdown&asc= 

Leap – A Quadrille Poem 1/1/2018

Oh that intoxicating feeling whenever I leap into your sphere. 9

Will you cherish, value or discard me as I descend within your realm? 13

Taking that leap of faith off the ledge is getting more difficult with each passing moment,  15

that I don’t know where we stand. 7

 

# at the end of each line is just to count the words. Sorry, if I caused confusion. Also I’m not counting the word leap.

dVerse,  first Quadrille word  for 2018 is LEAP.  The rules in Quadrille is simple:  write a poem, or short story in 44 words (excluding the title) with the word, LEAP.

 

 

Come in to live and die in my temple – April 3

 

Come in to live and die in my temple it is sacred, yet access has been granted to you

Come in to live and die in my temple it is not to be shared, but it is to be cherished by you

Come in to live and die in my temple it is made to be adored by you

Come in to live and die in my temple it is allowed for you to savor the welcoming warmth through it’s loving embrace of you

Come in to live and die in my temple it is made to accommodate your every slow careful and treasured entrance or fast hard and feral entrance

Come in to live and die in my temple it is to be worshipped at your leisure, but be thorough

Come in to live and die in my temple it is never to be left without making it shudder and sigh and taking all you have to give

Come in to live and die in my temple

 

Just a poem with a double meaning

Always Wanting One More – April 2

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more glance into your loving eyes.

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more glimpse of your radiating love.

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more kiss on the lips or forehead.

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more nibble on my lobes or globes.

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more caress with your soft sturdy hands on my cheek, my nape or hair

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more embrace with your powerful uplifting arms.

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more kind encouraging word from your elegant mouth.

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more gesture that your love is real.

One is never satisfied; always wanting one more, one more and always one more.

 

The prompt was to use the word ONE in poem.

Heartache Blues – April 1

“Maybe, we can find a way to be together” reaches my ears, but my soul cries out. 

It can’t be forced; we either love each other enough to drop everything

Or we don’t and we each walk our own path without the other by their side.

“Maybe, we can find a way to be together” reaches my ears, but my soul cries out.

On my mind these words keep circulating and reliving heartache.

Why must there be a struggle to be in each others presence.

“Maybe, we can find a way to be together” reaches my ears, but my soul cries out.

Golden days of remembrance resurface on the darkest of days making us blue.

Leaving us wishing we had seized more sweet moments to survive these blues.

“Maybe, we can find a way to be together” reaches my ears, but my soul cries out.

My soul bemoans this heartache blues.

Knowing that the last time we loved each other was the last time.

The poetry prompt asked that a music genre be written in the title and then a poem written to follow suit. This time I chose the Blues.

3 Tanka poems

Tanka Poem – They have a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable count, per line. With no capital letters or punctuations only a dash may be used to signify a breath being taken or as part of the title. Tanka is one of the earliest of Japanese poetic forms.

hot, hazy, humid
summer days linger far
to long – masking my
soul’s cool seductive flow
autumn desires come soon

caress my soul now
let your mind entwine with mine
lest you leave me bare
the memory of thy embrace
remain on all my senses

kiss and mark my heart
with the love of all ages
keep me in your mind
as we journey through all
stages of separate life