Orange hue, or: Hanging nimbly

A "Bridges" poem An ode to the Golden Gate Bridge "International Orange" its famed vivid hue; Visible through thick fog; bold against vast skies blue; Bay to ocean... In earthquakes and strong winds it vibrates flexibly; This great, sturdy marvel, hanging nimbly... Made for motion. โ€˜What do you seeโ€™ Prompt #163 This "bridges" poem was… Continue reading Orange hue, or: Hanging nimbly

The bridge, or: The voice

A 'Bridges' poem Before me, one way to go; stone spread, long and straight. There, I uncertain linger, hand upon steel gate; An eerie scene. Fir trees dull grey, reflections black, pale bridge ghost white; Feel nary weak breeze waft... chest- straining, tight... 'Tis too serene. Somewhere, time-stopped stillness hints at love and loss; Turn… Continue reading The bridge, or: The voice

Prism, or: Schism

My 2nd rondelet Is poetry My faith, rather than Judaism? Is poetry More to me than mere poesy? Each verse, every form ~ a new prism... Poetry is my bridge, not schism ~ Is poetry. P.S. This post was scheduled in advance because I am offline for two days (between sunset on Monday and sunset… Continue reading Prism, or: Schism