From Blue to You

From Blue to You

I’ve always been your favorite color,
but I’m hers, as well, so your eyes
were a clincher for her. Remember
your first time together, a Chicago blues club?
Yeah, I see a lot of that. Hear it too.
But I saw none of that between the two of you.
No blues there. I didn’t even mind when you went
back to the Windy City for a jazz festival.
She was overcome when you introduced her
to my beauty in that magnificent lake,
when she saw my true depth. And the way
you two looked at those blue skies? Especially
the night sky and your talk of a blue nebula,
your love for each other that seems ever-expanding.
Thank you for that.

This poem is my response to Poetics: True Colors? – the prompt
from Mish at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to write a poem the perspective of a color.

NGC 7023 – The Iris Nebula
© Tony Hallas via Astronomy Picture of the Day
Millennium Park, Chicago, Illinois (Jay Pritzker Pavilion)
photo taken 02 September 2012

Just as Bright ~ quadrille

Just as Bright

Who could know the blanket of stars
wrapt round us on our first night together,
so tight they shone in your eyes and mine
as we strolled through Millennium Park,
would bind us, still, these many years later?
Shine they do, just as bright.

This is my response to Quadrille #113: Blanket Us,
the prompt from Merril at dVerse Poets Pub,
which is to use a form of the word blanket in a 44-word poem,
with no required meter or rhyme.

Image: Jay Pritzker Pavilion, Millennium Park, Chicago, Illinois
photo taken 02 September 2012

Final Destination ~ haibun


Final Destination.jpg

Final Destination

It was Chicago, a weekend in June, 2011, and friends gathered, met face-to-face for the first time. A blues club. A boat tour on the river and lake. The Poetry Foundation. Slam poetry at The Green Mill. Music, words and laughter, mixed, mingled, with friendships made stronger, lasting. A spark was born, and September saw our return, just you and I, with a festival of jazz providing the score. As that week ended, we knew we were meant to be together. Traveling back and forth… northeast, mid-west, Finger Lakes, St. Louis, Niagara Falls, precious moments with interludes of separation. But then, a year later, we were together. For good.

my mind running wild
too many miles between us
needing your presence
a state of calm by your side
my final destination

Using calm and wild, this haibun is my response to a challenge from Colleen Chesebro: Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge – #Haiku #Tanka #Haibun: CALM & WILD.

How I Knew I Was a Poet

How I Knew I Was a Poet

In the cool breeze
of a warm day,
on a northern shore
far from any ocean,
poets talked in silence,
leaves rustling
with each page turned,
and eyes met.

That was where it began.

Words, spoken and carried
on a stellar breeze,
joining two hearts,
their radiance a nebula,

and I knew I was a poet.

Looking back six years, and we are now together five years in Missouri, to the day.  A day of celebration. (She makes up for the Missouri part of it.)

The Time of Our Lives

The Time of Our Lives

Hours spent filling a need
erasing distance
with face time
caught in a net

Embracing at the station
prelude to jazz in the park
and a rendezvous on the lake
Chicago, our special place

Nine hundred miles
driven to you, then back
a December weekend
far too short

A winter retreat
with bed and breakfast
served with a flair amongst
Finger Lakes and wine

Mile after mile
counting the miles
erasing the miles
the final nine hundred miles

Finding a home
making a home
no longer alone
our home together

Each but a moment
in the time of our lives

This is my response to Jane Dougherty’s Last Poetry Challenge of 2015: Sayings
~ a theme poem using a familiar saying.  The phrase I chose is “the time of our lives”

Image: Jay Pritzker Music Pavilion at Millennium Park, Chicago

Anything But

Anything But

 Listened to blues this morning,

as we do every Saturday.

Thought about Chicago.

How we met in a blues club.

How we read poetry together.

How we we went back to Chicago

for poetry and jazz.

Looked at you across the table,

listening to blues this morning,

and knew, without a doubt,

It’s been anything but the blues.

30 poems in 30 days_12