Each Day Anew…

I wake and start each day anew
I shake myself to clear my head
I take on faith I’ll muddle through
I make myself get out of bed

The day is as it was before
The play of life’s dramas unfold
The clay of my face gets new scores
The way it will for days untold

Time flaunts with me in its cruel way
Time wants me to think I’m all right
Time daunts my tears in light of day
Time haunts me then in dark of night

Can’t lie my pain will soon be through
Can’t fly away until it’s gone
Can’t buy back moments to redo
Can’t die so no choice but go on

It’s true that heartache ends, but when?
It’s few the days I feel it cease
It’s due I know, but until then
It’s through my pen I find release

I know I have the strength to cope
I go as heart and soul say to
I sow my seeds of faith and hope
I grow and start each day anew


[written several very short, yet long years ago – about six weeks after becoming a widow.]

The form used is called a Lento. Strictly speaking a Lento is two quatrains of eight syllables (a Double Lento has four quatrains, or as I have done, a Triple Lento with six quatrains). A Lento requires that you rhyme the very first word of each line in the stanza and have an ending rhyme of abcd. As you can see I took a little creative licensing here by repeating the first word and rhyming the second words instead and having an end rhyme of abab.

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics: The Beautiful Sadness


hello darling
clear your mind

and just imagine

imagine me walking in the room
and you’re sitting there sipping an iced libation
(Got the drink? Sip it. Good.)

imagine you are listening to soft music
(Got the song? Hear it. Good.)

imagine that I give you this soft, warm hug
then look deeply into your eyes and kiss your lips with affection

imagine that I as I start to remove my jacket
you realize that all I’m wearing underneath

is my charm

imagine the feel of the shag on your back
as I lay you down
(The beige plush. Feel it? Good.)

imagine the emotional dispute on where to touch me first
until I run your fingers over each moist inch of skin I’ve exposed


imagine that I fetch a cube of ice from your glass
as I start to take off your clothes


imagine your deep throated growl
as each inch of your skin I expose is iced, and then licked


imagine the manner of my hands all over you, my lips all over you,
as I hit all your spots just right

imagine my tongue’s downward slide, as I engage your salute
with the proper oration

imagine that you want me so badly you begin to tremble
from my oblique slide on top of you

then imagine just as you’re on the verge
I do everything you want me to do


imagine the feel of every whisper, every touch, every kiss, every lick,
every move, every growl, every thrust, every moan


imagine as we calm down softly
whispering how much we love each other,
laying there in afterglow

then imagine I say ‘again’

so? are you ready for tonight?

Good. Because I’m putting my key in the door,



One Shot Wednesday — Week 53

First Feelings Part II (The Reality)

It was mine.

It was mine to give
to the one I chose.
Instead it was taken,
forever from my grasp.

Stole the most valuable item
That this fifteen year old possessed.

It was mine.
It was suppose to be a gift.

Somewhere out there
the potential recipient
knows not what was lost.

It was mine.
He stole my gift.

I had visions on how it
would one day be given.

It was mine.
He stole my dream.

For years what I gave
could never bring
me happiness.
It wasn’t The gift.

It was mine.
He stole my joy.

I should be able to reminisce
fondly when girl talk
falls to that time
but I remain quiet.

It was mine.
He stole my memories.

A stranger made himself familiar
in a place he should have never known.


dVerse Meeting the Bar ~ Symbolism