They sit on the roof drinking in the sight
Of diamonds twinkling in the witching hour
Alone at last on this shortest night
A blanket is beneath them, but heat scours
Tar and flowers scent this roof top tower
Fingers follow trails on skin damp with sweat
Where light cotton clothes have little power
And their slow loss causes no one to fret
Cool jazz plays on an old cassette
As the solstice weaves its most magic ways
Soft curls are set free from its shell barrette
As I softly smile on their loving plays
Throes of passion begins, they close their eyes
And breezes carry away their heightened sighs
dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Sun, Sand, Storms, and Celebrations: Summer Ekphrastic
Though it’s not technically summer (yet), here in the northern hemisphere, we’ve already had a few scorching days. Merrill who is tending the pub tonight, entices us to pick from a selection of paintings evoking a variety styles and summer themes to write a summer ekphrastic poem inspired by what you see or feel.
I chose: “Tar Beach 2” Quilt 1990
by Faith Ringgold, American, born 1930. Produced at The Fabric Workshop and Museum, Philadelphia, founded 1977 Philadelphia Museum of Art. I can’t upload it, but you can see it here.
Before I even clicked on the link to view it, the title alone took me back to the days of rooftop barbeques, nighttime parties and things that happened in the late-late-late nights that only the moon sees.
I’m so pleased someone chose this image for inspiration! I can imagine all this happening–moon, stars, the scent of tar and flowers late at night, the heat and passion on a summer night. . .💙
Thank you, Merril!
You’re very welcome!
I love how you created a world of such summer love in the city… both the tar and flowers on the rooftop.
Thank you, Björn.
Fun rhymes in there. I like the movement from fret to cassette to barrette.
Tar Beach is one of my absolute FAVORITE books. Faith Ringgold’s world of imagination is so all-consuming. I picture them, laying on their blankets, “drinking in the sight / of diamonds twinkling in the witching hour…” YES. And now, what I’ll have to do is dig up my copy from the other room and have it near me while I read this again.
And…a sonnet, Raivenne? You’re amazing. Still, y’all are making me look bad. I’m going to have to step up my poetry game! =))
Yes, a sonnet, hadn’t penned one in ages, it, like the quilt and it’s name, called to me. Thanks.
What a lovely and magical description of the shortest night. Love the sounds.
Thank you, Grace.