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Inkblots from the purple pen
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Tag Archives: Micro-poetry
“taste of mud”
Written for: The Twiglets #328 – taste of mud Making mud pies where the ocean touches the shore– sniffed but not tasted And there’s the difference between animals and people plays scenes from past childhood games vivid in her head … Continue reading
“breathing space”
Written for: The Twiglets #327 – breathing space Licking my nose first thing in the morning leaves me no breathing space. In quiet twilights I breathe freely. gazes at still lake breathes easily in calm space breath fogs water’s surface … Continue reading
“happy nod”
Written for: The Twiglets #323 – happy nod Her face bobbed up and down like a beachball. as she nodded yes to his proposal. Alice nodded off under a shady tree. She woke to find herself in a strange land. … Continue reading
“you wear black”
Written for: The Twiglets #323 – you wear black You wear black so well– too many funerals ‘Oh my dear you should wear black clothes only. After all, you live in Manhattan now.’ black wide-brimmed hat slants across her pale … Continue reading
“curled page”
Written for: The Twiglets #321 – curled page Page containing her favorite poetry– yellowed and curled with age. Love letter was tucked inside the curled page. Sit sits and reads book in her lap, long hair curled around page A … Continue reading
“ broke as a rock”
Written for: The Twiglets #320 – broke as a rock My heart broke when the rock of my life shattered. Blasting rock and roll, broke his eardrums sits on high rock in gray light. Stares at rubble after the storm … Continue reading
“bells like clear vowels”
Written for: The Twiglets #318 – bells like clear vowels An ambitious ‘A’ chimes from church declaring noon. Thick crystal glass pings an ‘O’ full and vibrant as the wine it holds. calls for dinner cowbell rings from front door … Continue reading
Posted in Purple's Home
Tagged cat, church, cowbell, crystal, Haiku, limerick, Micro-poetry
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“smothering years”
Written for: The Twiglets #317 – smothering years Golden years smother the dreams of where and who you thought you would be. Her mother–in the name of love– smothered her early years with fear of childhood sports, games, and animals. … Continue reading
“rain-beaten stones”
Written for: The Twiglets #316 – rain-beaten stones white-spotted rocks at the base of a waterfall rain-beaten stones The storm’s relentless, pounding rain played a symphony on the stones below. outside her window steady drumming rain pinging on stones He … Continue reading
“kiss on the cheek”
Written for: The Twiglets #315 – kiss on the cheek Her inebriated first date kissed her on the cheek dribbling spit. No future dates planned. A kiss on each cheek is romantically chic. rosy red cheeks on this summer day … Continue reading
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