I bathed myself in shades of blue To wash away the thought of you; Starlit dreams blazed on through The floating dark of velvet sleep. I woke to scarlet candy streaks: Slivered shards of sugared dawn Melting on the dew-dropped lawn. I reached for misty comfort clouds To cover love I disavowed— Make gray the color of my shroud.
~*~ Image is mine. Poetry form is my own concoction.
The coast soothes my mind, From the rhythmic crash of waves To the infinite hues of blues And greens and grays As the water undulates, Shimmers, foams, and sprays. The endless reality of days Can erase the dreamer Within my soul, But the mystery of the deep Summons her out to play And keeps her whole. It’s only natural to be magnetized By the pull of the ocean’s tides, To be seduced by the primal Scents of salt and sand, A tangle of seaweed In my hand.
At the edge of rock and sky, She breathed frozen air And was energized. Lights glowed in benediction; She raised her arms and prayed. Dancers flowed and twisted, Magnetized from pole to pole, Swirling, streaming, In the green auroral mist. She had to come to the end Of the earth to kill the pain, But instead Was born again.
The Countess waved gracefully to the crowd gathered on the lawn. She had agreed to answer a few questions and pointed to a reporter near the edge of the stone steps. Two armed guards stood at the bottom of each side of the steps, ostensibly to deter anyone from coming too close.
“Countess Greta,” the reporter said. “It’s so good to see you again. What inspiredyou to emerge from your solitude?”
Greta smiled and indicated the perfectly maintained grounds. “I wanted a fresh lemon for my afternoon tea.”
Everyone laughed politely. It wasn’t a real answer, for they all knew the Countess could summon a servant to fetch a lemon.
Another reporter asked, “We were used to seeing you dressed in mourning black. Does your more colorful attire signal a change in your lifestyle as well? Will you be entering society again?”
The crowd murmured. It was a bold question, to indirectly refer to the death of the Count. No one really knew what had happened, though of course there were many stories and rumors, some of them bordering on the scandalous and vile.
But Greta appeared unfazed. She touched the lace of her heather pink dress and said, “Oh, thank you for noticing my gown. It is springtime after all. But I do prefer the quiet life of reading poetry and painting watercolors in my studio.”
A few more questions followed regarding her taste in poets and such. One of the guards subtly shifted position, at which point, the Countess said, “It’s been lovely chatting with you all. We shall do it again soon.” With that, she disappeared back into the cavernous castle.
This is the place, the old ones say, Where moonglow bathes the lake, And an unearthly shimmer shines Beyond the towering pines. They say a spaceship landed here, In a dark, despairing year, Right where the coral poppies bloom– Bereft of sun, they thrive in gloom. Bury your treasure, gems and gold, And it will be increased sevenfold. I think it’s worth a try, don’t you? Meet you there at half past two.
The gray days of winter crash and foam, one much like another. Memories sprout like tender green buds under a warm yellow sun. You thrived in spring, with your hands in the dirt, coaxing forth a rainbow of blossoms.
These empty blue rooms Echo my silent crying: I miss you, Mommy…
~*~
Haibun idyll written for Tanka Tuesday. Image from Unsplash. Happy birthday, Mommy. Love you always.
A blend of blue and red, Peace and passion, Created me; Violet, the most luxurious And spiritual Of all the colors, Is my name.
I am the creative canvas For a fertile imagination. Royalty knows me well; Byzantium nobles stroll Through castles, Resplendent in plum. Robes of velvet and satin Are spangled with gold, As befits my elevated status.
My color graces soft orchid petals, Kissed with dewdrops, Trembling in the early dawn. Lavender and lilac Fill your rooms with love. Amethyst crystals Glitter in volcanic bowls, While diamonds grow green Over their superior beauty.
I am the hue of dragons, Fierce and loyal, Soaring across the sky: Their heliotrope wings Outshine the moonlight. True blue is married To danger’s red flame; Come closer… I won’t bite.
I am mysterious and intuitive, Feminine, elegant, Yet earthy as an eggplant. Yes, I am arrogant, But it is tempered with honor. I am the color of wisdom, Which also makes me the shade Of mourning.
Last weekend was super-great. I saw friends in person Saturday night for games and noms, and Sunday I celebrated my granddaughter’s third birthday with family and friends. My daughter originally thought it would be a low-key get-together, but the theme was unicorns, and you can’t really do unicorns “low-key.” The birthday girl wore a sparkly purple unicorn dress and a pink princess crown, and she carried a silver heart magic wand. Adding to the festivities were a rainbow bounce house, pastel unicorn party supplies, coloring pages, pizza and snacks galore, and of course fabulous unicorn cupcakes.
I must say I was impressed with my daughter’s cupcakes. I’ve made some good cakes in my time, but she exceeded my efforts in every way. The cupcakes were pink, and she piped on white buttercream frosting like a pro. Then she added sprinkles along with unicorn cutouts, just in case it wasn’t clear that this was a UNICORN PARTY! Honestly, these cupcakes looked and tasted like they came from an excellent bakery. Absolutely delicious. The day began gloomily but ended up nice and sunny for the party. Truly outstanding smiles all around.
Bonus smile: a friend told me about Mother’s mythological frosted cookies, so I brought a few bags to add to to the mix of party snacks. They were yummy! Instead of plain old pink and white frosted regular animals, we had purple and white frosted dragons, sea serpents, mermaids, and UNICORNS! Highly recommend these cookies. For kids, I mean. OBVIOUSLY.
