tirring up in all its forms
with which a busy day adorns
the fact and fiction of my heart
can leave me breathless with its scorn
awash in doubt, swiftly forlorn,
tossed in the air and torn apart.
Author Archives: amyjasek
Daughter
you:
my one
and only
my messenger
into future years
Family of Sound
…..Hens cluck
Mosquitoes whine
Trees sigh
Flowers giggle
Brooks babble……
Getting back in the saddle
Let’s talk inspiration: as in I am in serious need of some. Over the summer I drew back into my shell like a hermit crab and kept to myself. . . . .
Wild Horses
In the glitter of the mountain morning, dew heavy enough on the ground to make a thirst content, they wandered with peaceful silence into the bowl of the meadow. Hushed hooves made no sound in the padded pine straw. A whole family, coats slick and rich as burnished mahogany, a proud patriarch and his ladies, plus youngsters. He watched us as we watched them, blinking Queen Mab out of our eyes, dream-checking. His displeasure at my approach came heavy and quick from the velvet of his muzzle.
Tarantula
ng-legged hairy creepy crawly minding its own business on the dry ground. Long-legged hairy creepy crawly held up on a stick to be examined closely. Long-legged hairy creepy crawly interrupted! ….
Monarch
This summer we planted a butterfly garden, lining the patio with bright signal fires to attract soft, shy visitors.
Mountain Lion
Her castle is a canyon; her feather bed is a rocky crevice, sweet and hidden as the truth she keeps in feet that pad upon the earth, ears that know the smallest sounds, life that accumulates beneath the nails of her lethal, inscrutable claws.
Peter Rabbit
Peter Rabbitmunching a snack out on the lawnPeter Rabbitburrowing, as is his habit,trespassing to dig holes, whereonI chased him off, so now he’s gone.See ya, rabbit. A little rondelet based on a true story. Thank you for reading!
Wonderspaces
In the next room, a galaxy strung up
becomes an immigrant face at distance,
but only at a certain distance, seen
from a specific vantage point, well marked.
Stand here if you would behold my visage;
from every other point of view, I am
a mess.
The Poetry Patio 