Sonnet: Dove of Peace

In this post from last week, I shared a picture and 2 poems inspired by it, wondering if I would start a series by reusing some of the lines to write different forms of poetry. Well, here is the next installment of the series: a Shakespearean sonnet (hoping to try a Petrarchian sonnet soon)! Shared with the Writers’ Pantry at Poets and Storytellers United.


The dove of peace brings healing in its wings,
The shining sun comes not so far behind –
A confluence of pinkish hues it beings,
The easier some happiness to find.
The dove of peace reveals itself to men
Although it often seems to’ve been delayed:
It can be shy, and finds its welcome when
True prayers of trust, like little stars arrayed,
Light up the people’s dark thoughts’ sky. Those stars
Provide much comfort when they’re born and rise,
Against despair and woeful words which mar –
With peace past understanding as the prize.
Thenceforth can many faith-filled flowers grow,
No matter which direction the winds blow.

Coloring 1_11

I Have Lived in Many Half-Worlds Myself

Upon reading “Flying Fish” by Carl Sandburg for the first time, I wrote this response. Sharing with DVerse Poets’ prompt, “A Conversation.”


I have lived in many half-worlds myself:
Something simultaneously hopeful and harrowing,
Days which are both depressive and lifted,
Days when despair drowns in floating faith

I have dreams in which I breathe
Under the seawater or up in the sky:
A wing thing. A fish thing.
Sometimes I have lived in that in-between —
And so I know you.


image from Pinterest

Keyhole in the Moon

This poem is inspired by DVerse Poetics and the image below, which is by Catrin Welz-Stein. I enjoyed writing to one of her beautiful, surreal pieces of art. Her other art can be found here:
http://catrin-stein.imagekind.com/store/


He holds a key that’s half his size,
As a giant feathered-thing flies
Away with him, away, as he stays
Looking at the moon.   He’s left a piece
Of himself, never to be released
From that beautiful, liminal gloom.

Burning

For this week’s Weekly Scribblings, we are to write inspired by the phrase “A phoenix must first burn.” I wasn’t in the mood to write anything triumphant, so this cherita is where my brain took me this evening.


I don’t want to hear about the phoenix anymore.

No more rising from the ashes anymore,
Who made me a mythical firebird?

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust you shall return —
I don’t mind whether there’s a rising,
At this point solely stop the burning.