Tonight on dverse we have been asked to write a haiburn about cherry blossom.

https://dversepoets.com/2021/03/29/haibun-monday-3-29-21-cherry-blossoms/

On route to school back in the 1980’s. To a school now vamoosed.

I would stroll along a street named Cherry Orchard. Each front garden holding a tree from the past. The orchard long since gone.

I still pass the street on my way to work. But the trees are all gone, gone, gone.

I miss the blossom on the street every spring. But there are plenty of others aroud the own.

Cherry blossom gone,

No blossom, no spectacle,

Cherry tree missed.

© rogleach 29/3/2021

Watching fires of inspiration,

Waiting for the sparks to soar,

Igniting my poetic muse again,

My muse smothered the sparks.

© rogleach 29/3/2021

Circles eroded into the bench,

Where us tools have laboured,

Round and round and round and round,

Till my workers hand scuffs out,

And that same discards us,

Unloved into dusty chests.

Alone I sit in salty light,

Hung over stinging eyes screaming its demise,

Mind in circles of restraining rules,

Numb mind dying in circles of dumb,

Having worked out on the bench,

Never finding my own way again,

To the outer of that circular rim.

Golden words inscribed on lavender walls,

Take me back neglected times of freedom,

Words of adolescence from ancient minds,

Stuck in a dark storm of circles,

Longing for the thunder of release

When my voice is finally heard.

https://dversepoets.com/2021/03/25/mtb-coming-full-circle/

this poem was one of my first i shared at opn mic back in 2018. i last looked at it back injan 2020. when i drew it into the form in the photo. sorry but i have taken the circle prompt in a liturale sense. i am going to have to learn about the other forms mention a #dverse tonight.

https://dversepoets.com/2021/03/23/poetics-the-poet-as-painter/

WRITTEN FOR DVERSE

Thank you Laura for a challenging prompt tonight at poetics on tuesday.

the poet as a painter indeed

Part 1

An empty canvas on easel

 in front of frustrated artist.

A dark sunrise in lens’s sight

Irritates photographer.

An empty ink well

Sits upon a perturbed poet’s desk.

The artists finds their Lost brush

And paints the stars and beyond.

Photographer removes lens cap

Captures sunrise over last nights bed.

Poet picks up ball point pen

Putting the sun to bed as the stars rise.

Part 2

Graze of green and black

Tree tops I see above jungle paradise.

Yellow scuffed over blue

Sunshine reflected from calm sea delight.

Yellow cohorts with red over white

Catches my eye like a firecracker over my highlighted head.

Finally finished with yellow speckled black

Of the stars sparkling my pleasure.