Tag: Writing

“Spring Percolates”



Pear tree blossoms
plentiful
as the stars,
packed into constellations
individual as the eye,
purity of milk and diamonds,
whitecaps of oceans
awaken

into another dream,
lost moments found,
forgotten tales
retold
of skeletal branches
putting on fat and flesh,
garbed in gowns of organza,
taffeta and voile,
of golden green,
magenta’s pink,
and crimson of the maples,
the stars

descend from the heavens,
dip into the tin paint
gallons of the rainbow,
morph into manifold
forms  of delight,
crayola of corollas
dazzle
upon the vibrant grass.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

“Fragments of Bread”

Still Life by Julia Medvedev
Still Life by Julia Medvedev

Fragments of bread
hours after supper
fill my ceaseless hunger —

Midnight and the light
is sparse,
the camel-eyed windows
gaze
at Giacometti
shadows —

Daybreak alights:
I laugh with the warblers,
and the breath of my nostrils
fires the oven,
the bread for my hunger,
once again.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

“Treasures in the Morning”

Anita Martinz @ Wikimedia Commons

Cold tentacles
hold on
to burgeoning branches
beneath the April sun:
yellow butterflies alight
upon celadon lapels
of  petal-packed corollas —

Skies are cyan, crystal-clear,
embossed with goose
down pillows
soaked
in alabaster dreams —

There are treasures in the morning,
this platinum morning:
emerald and gold
glimmer
over infantile leaves
of oak and elm —
ruby and sapphire,
topaz, turquoise and amethyst
sparkle
in the tranquil blooming
of the promised flowers.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

*** Photograph by Anita Martinz @ Wikimedia Commons

“Almost April”


… back from my travels… I turn around and once again, it’s Almost April

Almost April:
when crocuses,
aconites
speckle colors
on frigid earth,
and buried bulbs unfurl
their green fingers —

Somewhere
a cold cauldron sits
atop a flame,
warmth simmers:
imperceptible
as approaching dawn.

Almost morning:
when softest tones tiptoe
through purple darkness,
and wakening lark arises
in radiant song,
ruptures
daybreak deafness.

Almost laughter.  

by D. G. Vachal © 2012