Poem: Velvet Bookmark

As Autumn's red heat
set the night sky on fire
a fallen feather
fluttered into my book of days.

A feeling of hope and resilience
cradled me in its arms
like a warm nest.

Gently, I retrieved
the ash-brown feather
and placed it between
the book's spine for safekeeping:
a velvet bookmark
to mark this moment in time.

Poem: In the Butterfly Room

I pay $5 to watch hundreds of
shape shifting wings flutter and soar 

towards the sky. A ceiling painted 

pale blue with a crooked yellow circle 

lurks in the distance like a sunflower 

birthing deformed seeds.

A stray moth searches for the light, 

while life glows inside paper lanterns 

surrounded by purple ivy. The room
is uncomfortably humid, a small pupa 

with no windows. The decoupage forest 

is wilting on my shoulders.

So, I sit alone with the butterflies. 

Contemplate how to set them free 

while carrying my basket of dreams 

through the narrow exit.

* This is a poem I wrote many years ago and it appears in my latest chapbook, The Night Garden.

The Warbler by Sarah Beth Durst

~ I finished The Warbler last month and thought it was a very unique, magical tale involving three generations of women trying to break free from a supposed curse. If you like fantasy and magical realism, then I think that you'll enjoy this too!

DESCRIPTION:

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Lies Among Us comes a magical tale about mothers and daughters, choices and consequences, and the real meaning of home when every place feels like a cage.

Ten months. That’s the longest Elisa has stayed anyplace, constantly propelled by her fear that if she puts down roots, a family curse will turn her into a tree.

But she’s grown tired of flitting from town to town and in and out of relationships. When she discovers a small town in Massachusetts where mysterious forces make it impossible for the residents to leave, she hopes she can change her fate.

As Elisa learns about the town’s history, she understands more about the women in her family, who seem doomed to never get what they want. Now she believes she’s stuck, too—is that a patch of bark on her arm? But her neighbor’s collection of pet birds sings secrets that Elisa can almost understand—secrets she must unravel in order to be truly alive.

Cherry Blossom Days Chapbook Free on Amazon

~ My poetry chapbook, Cherry Blossom Days will be free from Feb 2-6 on Amazon Kindle Reads.  If you're in the mood to read romantic or Spring poetry, please consider this book.  Also, if you read the book in it's entirety, please leave a rating or review.  Every bit helps as it's so hard to get reviews anyway.

~ If you click on the book cover for Cherry Blossom Days on the right hand column of this blog, it will bring you to the book on Amazon. :-)

Poem: San Marcos

The San Marcos caught our eyes
and our hearts, pulling us in
like a magical spell upon first glance.

Our first apartment together
as a young, married couple.
My dream of living in vintage

architecture soon a reality.
A fine structure of old world skill
and dark, bewitching wood;

a forest transformed into a home
with wooden floors that creaked,
oversized windows that looked out

upon a fire station with circular
apartments to the left. We were
downtowners; street noise was the norm.

The bathroom became a refuge
with its claw foot tub and pedestal
sink. It was all so charming and rare.

We slept on a futon the first two years;
not once did we yearn for a bed.
After all, we had each other for comfort;

A fairy tale to relive each day.



* This poem can be found in my chapbook Cherry Blossom Days, available on Amazon.com.

King Louis XIV’s Abandoned Gothic Castle | EVERYTHING Left Behind

~ I really enjoy watching various urban explorers on YouTube and I happened to come across this new explore from BigBankz. In this video, he's exploring an abandoned castle in France and it's simply breathtaking what is left behind. I can only imagine what it must have been like to live here a century ago even though it was just abandoned around 1990. It's sad to just watch these historic buildings being left to rot and fall apart but I also understand how expensive it would be to maintain a majestic structure such as this.

Poem: Ever Umber

 

Image courtesy of Pixabay

A storm is brewing,

overhead, the rumble of thunder,

smoky-brown clouds.

A woman with long dark tresses

scent of sandalwood and wild apple,

barefoot, dances and twirls

with arms reaching out

kicking up dirt and havoc.

Her umber dress

flailing in the wind

like a tattered sail.

She is more than wildflower 

and warm honey.

One more turn, one last glance

towards the village

mired in rot and decay

as she eyes the abyss,

a meandering path 

ever cloaked in mystery.