A Perfect Romance

Art by Zurab Martiashvili

“Am I loved?” she asked wonderingly,
throwing back hair, sultry under silken shawl
scrutinizing her groomed shimmering form.
He walked glancingly past a mirror
then stopped to take a more admiring look.
“Darling?” Reluctantly she turned from
her reflection against the dark sky;
he tore himself from his dashing figure.
“How asinine, dear heart,” he ejaculated.
“To love oneself is most divine!”
Embracing by mirror and window
they stood, idols with eyes of glass.

Jude's The Saturday Symphony #14: "Romance" 
Sammi's Weekend Writing Prompt: use "Asinine" in prose or poem with exactly 74 words
Cyranny's Word of the Day Challenge: "sultry"

Turning Back Loneliness

Written for Paula’s Thursday Inspo #77: theme is lonely and the above image

I’m lonely without You, Lord,
though all the world be mine
the city’s blue-gray skyline
the starry twinkling host

I need to know you near me
Your love-light in my eye
the fragrance of your Spirit
the sweetness of your Word

somewhere I took a wrong turn
I chased my own desire
a world of smug contentment
but lacking peace of mind

I know you never left me
so I feel you all the more
when I’ve turned my back to you
your tender love ignored

I don’t know why I do this
leave you, then come back
as if I never knew You
as if my faith were dead

returning then I seek You
repenting of time lost
joyous to talk to You, Lord,
and walk with You again.

Sky-verse To You

I’m skating it, free-wheeling it
Somersaulted skyward by the infinite jest of it
That I could be winging it, barrel-rolling
Like Icarus to the very summit of it
Unburned by it, cascading liberating fall of it
Caught in it, unbound through it, Your love.

For dVerse's Quadrille #112: The Sky’s the Limit (in 44 words)
Click on Mr. Linky for more and join in!

Bless the LORD, O My Soul!

Psalm 103 Bless the Lord, O my soul,
    and all that is within me,
    bless his holy name!
Bless the Lord, O my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity,
    who heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit,
    who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
who satisfies you with good
    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Continue reading “Bless the LORD, O My Soul!”

Before You Go

I could feel her soft, wrinkled hand tightening on mine. I don’t know how long we stood before she finally spoke.

“I was looking out that window over the sign. I saw your grandfather’s mother kill mine. Just because she wasn’t the same color. It’s been seventy years now. It feels like just yesterday.”

I got my tongue working. “Grandma, how could you marry him?”

She turned, soft brown eyes wet with tears. “It wasn’t easy but love won. Hate lost. You’ll be going off to college soon. You won’t forget that, will you?”

“Like the sign says, Grandma, ‘NOPE’!”

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

word count: 100 
written for Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers
click on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields's hand-drawing of the frog 
for more tales of a hundred words or less.
And join the fun!hand-drawing-animal-frog-wearing-face-medical-mask-covid-protection-methods-coronavirus-quarantine-warning-vector-178410566

I Can’t See the Stars

I can’t see the stars 
For too long.
They hurt my eyes with longing
For the unseen.

I can’t see the people
For too long.
They hurt my eyes with longing 
For what could have been.

Long years built walls and ceilings
Dressed-up plaster neighbors
Who do not hurt or rob me
Arcana to surround me
Where blue skies cannot spurn.

But somewhere in the concrete
My hardened heart lies buried.
No tender arms will hold me
No twilight rays enfold me
In twinkling eyes of love

And I can’t see the stars.
PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr
word count: 94 
written for Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers
click on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields's hand-drawing of the frog
for more tales of a hundred words or less.
hand-drawing-animal-frog-wearing-face-medical-mask-covid-protection-methods-coronavirus-quarantine-warning-vector-178410566And join the fun!

Creaturely Rumination

Saturday Symphony

Jude’s Saturday Symphony #8 in which Jude poses the following question: What animal do you most relate to or admire, and why?  Fandango’s #FOWC: “covered”

 

Creaturely Rumination

So you want to know what animal I admire?

This of my ponderous thoughts you require

And, my friend, I’ll acquiesce to your request,

I’ve got you covered!  My answer, no jest,

Thus plainly is: the creature meriting such love

Must be as wise as a snake and harmless as a dove.

 

Aha, you say! That’s two creatures, not one!

But appearances deceive, especially those human,

And under one skin can reside two creatures:

Two snakes, two doves, doubles in their features

Twice wise and as deadly or twice haplessly unwary

Equally alarming as their fortunes they miscarry.

 

Think now of a creature, a lamb or a dove, so harmless, so mild

But wise, like a snake, and knowing, a man, woman, or child;

One creature who is heeding the law of love from its Author

And the same creature undeceived by the world’s favor or disfavor.

Such a God-fearing creature – oh, could it be you? Could it be me? –

Is the freest of the free, at peace, my friend, with God eternally.


“Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” (Matt. 10: 16, ESV)

Dance Convergence

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Immense and free 

The wind beneath me
Jouissance

 of gravity
A new life convergence
Soaring with the water
An overflowing hope

To carry the air

Unbounded by fear
Released by Your grace
Breathing eternity

Love's radiant beauty

Dancing in me.


Photo by Joel Valve (Unsplash) for Sadje's What Do you See (For the visually challenged reader,the image shows a girl dancing under the jets of water of a fountain, which are meeting above her in an arc.)

Common-Place Jotting: “Unto the hert’s forest”

Common-Place or “Locus Communis” — a place to remember

Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542) died before he reached forty: a man of double lives, he was an English courtier and diplomat during the reign of Henry VIII, by whom he was imprisoned twice in the Tower of London but managed to escape execution both times. He was infamous as a rumored lover of one of the king’s many wives (Anne Boleyn) but also famous for introducing the sonnet form into English literature.

The following sonnet could be interpreted in two different ways: either the speaker must renounce his love out of fealty to his wife (Wyatt was married) or he must flee his love out of fear of the king. Either way, unattainable love is the cause of the poet’s lasting pain and his heart must go into hiding.

Portrait of Sir Thomas Wyatt by Hans Holbein the Younger

The Long Love that in my Thought doth Harbour            Sir Thomas Wyatt

The longë love that in my thought doth harbour
And in mine hert doth keep his residence,
Into my face presseth with bold pretence
And therein campeth, spreading his banner.
She that me learneth to love and suffer
And will that my trust and lustës negligence
Be rayned by reason, shame, and reverence,
With his hardiness taketh displeasure.
Wherewithall unto the hert’s forest he fleeth,
Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry,
And there him hideth and not appeareth.
What may I do when my master feareth
But in the field with him to live and die?
For good is the life ending faithfully.

A Common-Place Jotting: Merchant of Venice, Act III, Scene 2

Common-Place or “Locus Communis” — a place to remember

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The Merchant of Venice (2004), Michael Radford, director

Act III, Scene 2 of Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice enters a new arena of combat, not one of economic or social gain, but that of love, when Bassanio, a Venetian gentleman and suitor to Portia, comes to try his hand at winning her hand. Like all the rest who have already tried, he must choose the correct casket that holds the portrait of the fair Portia, or else lose all further opportunity to wed her (by the terms of her late father’s will).

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But out of fear that he will fail in this endeavor, Portia, who loves him dearly, tries to dissuade him and trust to a future time. But Bassanio will not be kept from the object of his love with any further delay.

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Bassanio: Joseph Fiennes, The Merchant of Venice (2004)

BASSANIO
Promise me life and I’ll confess the truth.
PORTIA
Well, then, confess and live.
BASSANIO
“Confess and love”
Had been the very sum of my confession.
O happy torment, when my torturer
Doth teach me answers for deliverance!
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.

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Portia: Lynn Collins

Continue reading “A Common-Place Jotting: Merchant of Venice, Act III, Scene 2”