Festive Lights

that night,

the town lit up

in neon colors,

but amidst

the green & red,

all he could see was blue

even the street

turned

a deep indigo,

casting a soft

spotlight

on his face

and he became part

of a picture-perfect

moment,

yet wondered why

he felt so alone

in a crowd

~ ~ ~

Posted for dVerse and shared with Poets United.

Purple Sunset

i chased after a glowing sunset tonight
as if it were the last one to behold,
and captured it before it was out of sight-
remember this next time we kiss

our love is here for us to hold,
and when the sun goes down at night
it keeps us warm if it gets cold

but love is fragile in all its might,
love is rare like pure gold,
love is transient as a purple sunset-
remember this next time we kiss
~ ~ ~

A romantic roundel posted for Kerry's challenge at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Shared with Poets United and Skywatch Friday. I rarely write poems that rhyme, but the roundel form is so enchanting and charming and I couldn't resist. The sunset was memorable tonight, worth chasing after. I couldn't resist that either. Smiles :)

Storm

lightning
slices through the fog,
it crashes upon
a tree branch,
barren
framed by my window

the sky turns
dark,
i remember the cold
as if walking
on marble floors,
barefoot

it rains
a sliver of moon
and you,
silhouetted
against its light, fading
into me
~~~
Posted for Kerry's challenge in black & white at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.

Grateful

I am grateful that I can see

the beauty in the world

despite its imperfections,

celebrating the good

and praying for betterment

I am grateful that I can hear

the sound of peace

even in trees losing their leaves,

there is always a new bud

longing to bloom in spring

I am grateful that I can sense

the scent of truth

keeping me aware

of long lost secrets,

it's all in the open

I am grateful that I can speak

my soulful voice,

no one can deny

freedom of expression

~ let creativity soar ~

I am grateful that I can feel

the love within me,

around me and 

from above

and especially from you

I am grateful for life itself

~ ~ ~

I still have pink mums in a pot that I brought inside and put on my window sill to brighten up the day. Wishing everyone a joyful Thanksgiving full of abundance and gratitude! Thank you to all my wonderful readers and friends for your support. Much love. xx

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Sharing with:

Poets United

Shine the Divine

Dream Buds

in the stillness of the night,
i have become a water lily bud
longing to unfold my dream petals
towards the sky, and let dew drops
fall on me like answered prayers

Over at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry invites us to write another tanka, a poem in 5 lines, as part of an ongoing series on this wonderful poetry form. I have enjoyed participating in the previous challenges with my offerings of tanka, The Last Rose and Winds of Change. This time, the characteristics to focus on are "a simple clear image with unlimited suggestiveness" and "stillness." I thought of a water lily as it opens up to possibilities. These are photos I took in the summer. There are no more water lilies blooming right now other than in our dreams. Smiles. Enjoy and have a wonderful week!

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Also sharing with:

Poets United

Shine the Divine

City Moon

the city moon is like a streetlight, casting a glow on a homeless man

Unfortunately, in New York City, many are still homeless. It is a tough reality. There are several charitable organizations in the city, providing shelter and food to the homeless. This holiday season, I will be doing some volunteer work to help the homeless. 

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This is posted for dVerse Poets, prompt on an "American Sentence," a poem in 17 syllables. Also sharing my photos with Skywatch Friday and Weekend Reflections.

November Skies & Flowers

i wonder what lies beyond

November skies ~ do flowers

bloom over and above the moon?

I love how November skies look so dramatic against the golden and red hues of Autumn. There are still flowers blooming at this time of the year. I was pleasantly surprised to find so many colorful blooms--zinnias, daisies, and mums among them. I took these pictures at a nearby farm in the countryside of New York, and created a mosaic of flower macros. My haiku is contemplative today. I am just amazed by the beauty and mystery of the universe. And so that is the question that came to me. Something to ponder for the day!

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Sharing with:
Poets United

Skywatch Friday

Shine the Divine

The Color of Hope

What's the color of hope?

If a daisy could speak,
she'd say, just turn my face
towards the sun and take it all in,
until it becomes a part of me,
and when it's cold and dark,
my heart will still be ablaze
with the color of hope

If a tree could speak,
he'd say, just look within-
hope is already inside me,
if I don't take it for granted
and remember to say thanks,
until it blooms into spring again,
my roots are firmly planted

What's the color of hope?

It's a state of mind-
the leaves would say,
rustling under my feet
as I walk on this golden path
to find myself once more,
and believe that all is well
when I just ~am~

Today was another gorgeous Autumn Day that just spills with poetry. My poem is in response to two challenges. At dVerse Poets, Claudia invites us to write about "color" and what better season than Autumn to be inspired by color? At the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry invites us to write a poem "in an idyllic setting, but with a person in blatant contrast." When I walk in nature, I always gather strength and hope. Self-doubt seems to melt away when I become open to something greater than myself. Enjoy!

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Also sharing with:

Poets United

Shine the Divine

Haunted

he wrote poems
about the harvest moon
reflected in her eyes,
and read them to her
under the shimmering
light of silvery stars

he gave her flowers
the color of her lips
the scent of her skin,
and scattered petals
on the orange rim
of sunset

he wrote love notes
in red ink & calligraphy,
and tucked them between
pages of her journals,
as bookmarks
of memories

he promised
everlasting love,
that he'd walk with her
hand in hand
to the end of times
and the edge of the earth

he was the most 
romantic ghost
she had ever loved,
until he vaporized
into the pale gray mist
of a chilling Autumn night

the castle remained silent

~ ~ ~

This is completely fictional. No humans or ghosts were harmed in the production of this poem. Smiles. :) But the castle in my photo is real! It's Lyndhurst Castle in Tarrytown, New York, a Gothic Revival Mansion built in 1839. Kind of spooky. Happy Halloween!

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Sharing with:

Poets United

dVerse Poets

Skywatch Friday

City Streets Part 5: Cafés

They loved going to cafés in the city, especially in the Fall when it started to get a little cold outside. It was nice to be inside, all warm and cozy, savoring a cup of coffee (decaffeinated for her). That Sunday morning in late October, the cab driver dropped them off in front of Central Café in Pershing Square on 42nd Street.

But they were in the mood for something Italian. They walked downtown and passed by Benvenuto Café on Broadway. She noted that Benvenuto means Welcome in Italian, so inviting. It was still warm out and some people were sitting outside the café at small tables on the sidewalk. But they decided they wanted to be inside.

So they went to Eataly on 5th Avenue for a cup of cappuccino and their favorite dessert—tiramisú. The aroma of the coffee reminded her of a vacation in Italy where life was not as fast as a New York minute.

They sat at a table in the corner and talked about everything from the meaning of life to the meaning of tiramisú. The waiter said that tiramisú literally means “pick me up” because the rich flavor apparently puts you in a better mood.

They smiled at his translation. “See, the tiramisú is already working,” the waiter said, smiling back and swiftly returning to the kitchen for seconds.

She recounted her trip to Italy and how she fell in love with the culture, the history, and especially the warmth of its people.

“Did you ever hear of the Italian expression, il dolce far niente?,” she asked him.

“No, what does that mean?,” he asked back.

She said: “It means the sweetness of doing nothing. And not just when you’re on vacation. But taking some time every day to enjoy a special moment. A wonderful thought, don’t you think?”

He nodded and scribbled something in Italian on the paper napkin. It was misspelled, but she resisted the urge to correct him. Why spoil the moment?

“I love you, too,” she said, as she shared with him another bite of tiramisú.

life can be sweeter

if you take the time

to share dessert

~ ~ ~

This is the next installment of my fictional urban poems and haibun, this time with a café theme, Italian style. I just couldn't resist. Smiles. :)

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You can find my other urban writings here:  City Streets,  City Streets: Part 2,  City Streets: Part 3, City Streets 4: The Bridge.  Enjoy!

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Sharing with

Poets United

Weekend Reflections

The View From Right Here