Bewitched

the witching hour lies betwixt dusk and dawn —

and the sunrise is the blush of a young
girl experiencing love's first kiss;

and a baby's first cry is a rosy bloom
opening its eyes to the budding light;

and her laugh is an onslaught of
fireworks spreading across my heart;

and his freckles are constellations
guiding her to the safety of home;

and every time you look at me, my heart
is a butterfly dancing on the wind;

and the sunset is rainbow sherbert
my eyes cannot wait to devour;

and the moon is a shifting sail drifting
through a bioluminescent sea

in the witching hour betwixt dusk and dawn.

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Inspiration for this piece:  Over at dVerse Poets Pub, they are exploring metaphors.  I, myself, am quite partial to "like" (not so much "as")...okay I'm not necessarily partial to it, I just tend to use it without thinking.  Anyway, as you can see, this piece is a metaphor's dream.   

A note on form:  As mentioned in a previous post....  "At the moment, to my knowledge, there is no official name for this form (for the purpose of being able to label this post, I have temporarily dubbed it toria indirectly after its inventor).  It along with a handful of others was developed by one of the dVerse Poet Pub community members for a prompt where participants were asked to develop their own form (or a variation of an existing form).  This form was developed by Victoria C. Slotto."

Flight of the Babbling Words

This notebook is a fresh start —

and glass shatters as champagne
drips along the ships bow;

and wings unfurls ready for
butterflies first flight;

and hearts skip a beat balancing
fear beside fresh unknown love;

and sweet succulent fruit ripens
waiting to dance across taste buds;

and applause erupts forth as
the first notes ring through the air;

and the earth splits open from the pressure
of foot on shovel breaking ground;

and words like birds seek purchase
on lines ready to sing;

in a notebook of fresh starts.

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A note on form:  At the moment, to my knowledge, there is no official name for this form (for the purpose of being able to label this post, I have temporarily dubbed it toria indirectly after its inventor).  It along with a handful of others was developed by one of the dVerse Poet Pub community members for a prompt where participants were asked to develop their own form (or a variation of an existing form).  This form was developed by Victoria C. Slotto.

"I can’t decide a name for it–maybe you can, but here’s the recipe:

• Open the poem by stating an indisputable fact–perhaps based in science, as I have, and then let your imagination take over and see where it takes you.
• Each stanza should have only two lines, each beginning with the word “and…” Think of a child who has discovered some new to her wonder and comes running, breathless, telling you all about it. It should have a tone of excitement.
• The final line should reflect back on your opening statement." (Slotto, 2014)

I'm not sure how fact orient my fact is (as it relates to the "recipe"), but it is indeed a fact.

Inspiration for this piece:  I just laid to rest a notebook that I had been writing in since March of last year.  This marks the second time I have managed to actually fill (from start to finish) a notebook.  While that may not seem so significant, for me it is.  Anyway, while staring at my new notebook, I pondered ideas on how I might christen its pages...well, you can see where it lead.