In the time of the butterflies,
before lush grapes turned sour,
aged trees shook in unison,
fearful of what might pass.

Elders with low, ferocious
voices murmured, then shouted
until they howled under a
caliginous canopy, woven from
smoke and anise seed, rising in
anger only to fall upon a traitorous
ground.  Needle noses prepare to
pierce trembling flesh that may
still be perspiring in dimples of
wounded earth.

Bare is this weeping land, divested
of its plentitude, beneath our
incompetent hands–hoping and
praying that those pale peach, hazelnut
wraiths will find their way home.

Fresh Bread (Love Poetry Challenge)

Here, lies our love.
Long may love reign!
Clear, lies our love,
within love’s stark stain.

There, lies our love.
Don’t ask love why.

Near, lies our love,
in love’s jaunty way.
Dear, lies our love.
Love, can you stay?

Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.
~Ursula K. LeGuin


I was challenged to write a “Love in Ten Lines” poem.  Each line had to be four words long with the word love appearing in each line.  Also, one had to include a favorite quote about love at the end.
This is what I came up with.

For She, Who Sleeps

Imagine yourself a pear tree,
with passionate palms upturned
to receive bashful young fruits
as they plummet from your own aching

A light drizzle of sweetness
turns into an unforgivable lashing
and your overburdened wrists
snap under the weight of the

Broken bones beneath sugared skin.
Faith, scattered around the orchard,
never to be pieced back together.
And then, a pompous sky, naked
in its knowledge, laughs before it
cries.  Moistened mud slides
over bulging thighs, making a mark,
biding its time, giving everything
to all that we are.