am·a·teur
\ˈa-mə-(ˌ)tər, -ˌtu̇r, -ˌtyu̇r, -ˌchu̇r, -chər\ n. often attrib

[F, from L amator lover, fr. amare to love]

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

November 2014 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge: Day 26







‘twas a million places
a million cries
and a million winters
ago
in some ex-ballerina’s
apartment with eyes
in a city bewildered
by snow

‘twas the time that was perched
tween the land and the skies
in a basket of wonder
and willow
tween the yesterday’s hurts
and tomorrow’s goodbyes
rose petals of dawn
on the pillow

‘twas the world that was simple
it spelled you and I
in the hand of a happy
beginner
we would dance on the ceiling
(I don’t recall why)
and upset so the ex-
ballerina

when we left in a hurry
forgetting to pack
our mem’ries
she roused her ire
she arranged our wings
in a neat sky-high stack
pirouetted
and set them on fire




Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

prompted by Poetic Asides

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

November 2014 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge: Day 25



 



Fall’s drawing to a close…bewildered trees
Tread softly on the mantle that has slipped
Off their hunched shoulders. Beggars-mem’ries tease
And taunt the yester emperors now stripped
Of glorious crowns and all they used to own–
Or thought they did–when summer would enthrone
And serve with teenage passion of July
Their perfect bodies and exuberant youth
But summer’s gone. Impressed upon the sky
The trees stand raw and naked like the truth.
I wish they knew how beautiful they are
In their November majesty by far
Exceeding the presumptuous royal green
Back in the day they flaunted, wish they saw
Through summer, saw July for what it’s been–
A kid, no more–I wish they knew. In awe
I read their bark, the weathered wisdom of
The aging trees who’ve learned to live and love.




Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

prompted by Poetic Asides

Monday, November 24, 2014

November 2014 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge: Day 24








I’ll be with you if you allow me to
Should you decide you need someone to share
Your ashen sky with, or your clear see-through
Bewildered trees, or fragile crystal air
Please think of me before the end of fall
I will be with you, all you need is call
My name, and I will join you, we’ll remain
Here, on this swing, suspended from the high-
Raised hidden beams by silver strands of rain  
Time will sway slowly, softly, by and by
It will give way to winter, while a few
More precious days are ours, I'll be with you.




Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

prompted by Poetic Asides