The white iris

Scuppers spring’s onrush

For colors


In my rainbow dream

The white iris

Blooms melancholy


The lone saint

Smiles at the carnal world

Like the white iris

Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #1 hosted by Thotpurge



All my broken winged

butterfly thoughts


at the foot of the saintly tree.

Its leaves stirred-

Its balmy boughs spelled

a miracle

till each single

nymphalid or ringlet

could soar high-

I saw the saint smile

having read my prayer

to moor forever there.

May I always be

where all my saints live

in the land of trees.



Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Saints @ Poets United

My Ever Awake Ghouls


The ghouls

that dwell in me

in the guise of fitness freak-

come out before dawn-

when the weary moon is sleepy

stars yawn;

their red eyes whirl

in a dervish dance-

and do not rest

till they could pull me out of bed

and send my poor soul

out of the house.

I hear their chuckle

as my heavy trudge

squeezes dew-life out of the grass;

my steps are lighter

and then faster.

I hear their sighs…

perhaps of relief.



Posted for dVerse Poetics ~ Voice of the monster hosted by Bjorn