TENDER BEGINNIGS..
this poem was written for a contest
from a man's viewpoint and has won at least ten awards at Ap

Small confessions
kept masquerading as medicine
while mismatched failures
struggled to free themselves
from the sharp edges
of tender beginnings.

She didn’t bother to ask
but it went
without saying
my lips would eagerly
caress all of her
self inflicted wounds.

 

YOUR MEMORY

edge of light
reflecting your memory

your silhouette
loose wrapped in the clouds’ embrace

down-slant of happier days
where we strolled together
through summer wildflowers

ORIGAMI DREAMS

night sleeps
in the soft signs
of a flimsy origami dream

oh, your shifting silhouette
between this world and that,
whispering my name

I reach for that smile
faint and lost
longing to feel those lips again
on my fingertips...

within the length
of a dream
we find one another again
as a flirtatious moon
moves closer to a drifting star

 

A LITTLE LICK

Eating your bread, how could you think that?
Your faith in me leaves me flat.
The sun's hot heat will make it roast
haven’t you ever heard of toast?

IN THE CURVE OF THE MOON

we stab the wind
with empty promises
dragging tomorrow behind us

the weight of regret
accumulates
in naked epiphanies

we sit on this dangerous edge
of chaos
watching the moon roll
on the stomach of the sky
nudging dim clouds to the hollow
end of the horizon

our guilt, as black as thunder
always surrounds us
always follows us
never turning away

we kneel here
in the moon curves
trying to ignite some forgiveness
WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

IMPATIENT GHOSTS

 

 

the ghosts are impatient
on wet days

they stand outside,
shoulder to shoulder
tracing the words
they wish they had said
in the fog on my window
,,WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

DAYDREAMING ON A SUNNY DAY

Daydreams dance in gold marigold moods
poignant snippets, fluid monologue.
Quaint bluebell morning now alludes
to childhood fantasies draped in fog.

Beyond the window, those daytime chores call
there is always lots of things to do
But sweet the dreams into which I fall
when morning comes with her sky so blue.

To sit and dream yet a little while
following threads of those long lost dreams
All those old adventures make me smile
as I sit and dream under the sun’s beams.

Imagination now fills the day
making me wish I had more time to play.

WHIRLING ECHOES

 

Whirling echoing in faint disguise,
as golden fireflies wing evening skies.
The crickets are singing nature's tune,
in the shimmering flow of a June moon

A magical dance now lifting high
as transparent wings glide and fly.
Their night-time waltz of blinking gold
is an amazing sight to behold.

Silver pinpricks resembling stars
light darkening shadows, near and far.
Blissful winging across moonlight’s glow
flicking gold strokes where ever they go.
  WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

 

MIDNIGHT RAIN

 

Stabbing through wind with watery song
the midnight rain pulls sadness along.
We chase the ghosts of a flawless night
where soft moonlight streamed, with perfect light.

Dark clouds tumble, boasting wild havoc
bipolar rain is causing panic.
With ponderous voice it hammers down
swirling eddies, flooding the ground.

Midnight rain with monotonous drawl
settles remorse over one and all.
Tree limbs crumble, a ragged charade
as thunder roars, joining the parade.

Midnight rain, long suffering refrain,
repetitive song of sorrow and pain.
..WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

BOG SONGS

 

Ghosts are roaming down in the bog
spinning visions that want to play,
their bony fingers trailing fog.

Spinning visions that want to play,
they twirl and sink within the light
as shadows dance in mocking ray.

They twirl and sink within the light.
Bullfrogs call with their croaking sound
as phantom images lift in flight.

Bullfrogs call with their croaking sound.
Lily pad dreams are pulled along,
they echo high and then rebound.

Lily pad dreams are pulled along
as misty shadows spin away.
The bog is singing a grey song.

Ghosts are roaming down in the bog
their bony fingers trailing fog

WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

BRUISED LAVENDER

 

darkness spools
bruised lavender

a sharp mosaic
of regrets
battling with the wind

the end festers
below the cuts
like a persistent disease

splinters in the sunset
dismantle the horizon

no fond goodbyes
just a too full sky
spilling its remorse
 WRITTEN BY..DEE EDGETT

TIME

Time is strange bedfellow,
both hero and villain.

Its texture is dense
but it seems so fleeting.

In fits of sober remembrance
time recomposes festering sores,
wearing down the bones
and pushing at slender fractures

Healing hesitates
mixing grief with unsettled choices
as time collects the moments
to fill memories’ flimsy suitcases.

We keep going back to the stutters
and stabs where we neglected
to live in our truth
we keep trying to negotiate
what was or wasn’t

There is never enough time,
it may seem unlimited but it isn’t
so live for now, not tomorrow
or yesterday…
this moment, right now, is all you have!
..WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

WEEPING WILLOW

 

Inside damp mist the willows sway
with sleepy weeping sound.
Their feathery limbs fall away
reaching toward the ground.
Soft moans float on the morning breeze
along the mountains through the trees.
Soft moans float on
soft moans float on
threading fog o’er the deep blue sea.

Inside damp mist the willows sway
worn weary by spring rain.
Bending boughs lean toward the bay,
releasing unseen pain.
Sad echoes drift with endless hurt
their weeping branches touching dirt.
Sad echoes drift
sad echoes drift
in and out, always on alert.

Inside damp mist the willows sway,
bowed in prayer, it seems.
Spirit songs rise in veins of grey
removing restless dreams.
Green branches rise toward the light
they twist and turn with all their might.
Green branches rise
green branches rise
in golden glow, an awesome sight.
TRIJAN FORM..WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

 

 

DOWN IN THE BOG

this form was developed by me for a contest

at All Poetry

 

 

Croaking love songs down in the bog
droopy eyed with romantic thought
waiting for her to come along.

Droopy eyed with romantic thought
lit lily pads placed, facing north
fancy candles to mark the spot.

Lit lily pads placed, facing north
bullfrog calls thrown across the night.
Lusty throat sounds to bring her forth.

Bullfrog calls thrown across the night
jumping ladies he hopes to see.
Mud bath for two prepared just right.

Jumping ladies he hopes to see
flocking to his cool bachelor pad
where they shall sing in harmony.

Croaking love songs down in the bog.
waiting for her to come along.
...WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT

I WENT FOR A HIKE YESTERDAY

 

From on top of the mountain,
morning light sharpens everything.

Colliding shadows dance
through the full branches
of a black fir tree
before plunging
into the trampled fields of wildflowers.

Chickadees are chirping, daring me to follow.
The soft earth is warming in these first days of May.

A gentle breeze sweeps along the trail.
My worn bones are aching
with the unfamiliar effort of hiking these paths
but it is a good feeling
after the long days of winter.

Happy to finally be experiencing
the warmth of spring.
I sing a love song to the trees,
thanking them for just being.

The wind picks up my song
and flings it into the top branches
of a wispy pine
and I think I see it wave thank-you
as I turn to walk
back toward home.
  ...WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT
 

MODERNIZING MOTHER GOOSE

 

Humpty Dumpty has lost some weight
and now he’s looking really great.
A model now for slim and tall
Fashion statement he's off the wall.

Little Miss Muffet sits here and there
gave up tuffets for high back chairs.
Vegan now, only eats tofu.
Nothing scares her, she knows kung fu.

Jack and Jill still climb all those hills
with water bottles that don't spill..
Run marathons to keep them fit
both crowns in place they never quit.

Little Bo peep now has no lost sheep
Gps tracking  lets her sleep.
Computer chipped they wander free
the beeping tells her where they'll be.

Contrary Mary was obliged
when her parole was first denied
to give up  drugs that made her mean.
She now grows ganja, amongst her beans.

That little boy blue has left his horn
country style living and all that corn..
He’s into selling real-estate
Espresso keeps him wide awake.

 

        WHERE ANGELS COME TO SAY GOODNIGHT
Heaven’s portal in cloudy sky
on wispy wings they drift on by.
Shadows blend in misty twilight,
where angels come to say goodnight.

Along gold moonlight visons glide
on clumpy clouds they take a ride.
Silver spans of stars shine their light,
where angels come to say goodnight.

Murky illusions begin to form
swirling sensations, soft and warm.
Feelings of comfort, pure delight,
where angels come to say goodnight.

Briefly, across the earth they soar
with heavenly voice they reassure.
A hallowed place, shimmering white,
where angels come to say goodnight.

 

SELFIES PLEASE

 

Skeletons rose and took a walk
wandering forth with knees that knock.
Pale ankles bare, no need for socks.
From graves they stock, from graves they stock.

Past friend and foe they wandered by
as pale moon shone in evening sky.
On a grave a phone caught their eye
Something to try, something to try.

Modern phones make pictures a breeze,
this perfect moment they should seize.
Two bony smiles that now say cheese.
Two selfies please, two selfies please.

Grow around me my beloved…
let your laughter follow my footsteps
from early morning dawn to gathering twilight.

Sing me lullabies that ripple
through cool summer afternoons.
Waltz me through the sensual spirals of evening
delighting me with moonlight
and soft celestial sonnets.

Burst over me with violins and flames
erasing dark shadows and igniting my soul.
Tickle me with restless verse
that hums like the gentle murmur of a river.

Caress me with rain song
that tumbles with misty vapours and rainbows.
Whisper to me in the sweet scent of jasmine
settling across early morning dew.

Oh poetry dance me across the skies
and allow me to chain my words
to the brilliant flare of a falling star
as the alabaster moon kisses my words.
..written by Dee Edgett
 

 

DREAM CATCHER

 

I stitched your hair
into a dream catcher

black strands,
that smelled of lavender
and sunshine

layered knots
of love’s sweet memories

I hung it in a window facing south
and when the wind blows
through the strands

I can hear you
whisper to me
with words of love

OH HOW I LOVE A LAZY DAY

art work..Robert Bissel

Oh how I love a lazy summer day
where fluttering things come to play.
Soft satin wings tickle my nose
as I lie in a relaxing pose.

Oh how I love an afternoon nap
with butterflies fluttering in my lap.
Swift of wing, they soar as I sleep
into the forest so dense and deep.

Oh how I love my special log
here at the edge of a fertile bog.
There is nothing like a lazy day
watching the butterflies as they play.
...written by Dee Edgett

TENDER THE RIVER

tender the river,
paused in a sheen
of slow leaving ice

a hint of magic tiptoes across
that last draping
of winter snow

the trees whisper
their spring yearnings
amongst bare branches

with shy expectancy
the river waits voiceless,
warming itself
in those first echoing thrills
of spring birdsong

OCEAN'S BLOOMING

Hydrangea blue of oceans blooming
Ultramarine dreams now are looming
Misty moon now tiptoeing on by
a dot of white in the evening sky.

A vase of flowers glorious delight,
blending colors through day into night.
A sea of blue with scented pleasure
velvet petals are mine to treasure.

Across my table, the blossoms spread
as indigo visions spin and thread.
...written by Dee Edgett

 

                                              ONE LAST ROAR

The lion was getting old
he could feel the signs in his bones
and the shallow beating of his heart.

He had gone to rest under a shady tree.
In the distance
he could hear the young males
challenging each other.

It was mating season,
he was glad in a way
that he was beyond those days
and that the young males no longer
found him to be a threat
so they left him alone
to dream of the past.

The past was with him more lately
and she kept coming back to him
his African queen, his dear Ashya.

Lions mate without the need for love
but in the mating with her,
he had found a piece of himself.
It was her that he had rested his
weary head against at night
and told his secrets to.

She had been more than a mate
she was his friend and a gentle place to call home.
He still missed her even though she
had been gone many moons now.

He looked into the sky with watery eyes.
The last full moon was pale
and the stars seemed less bright tonight.
In the distance just along the horizon
he saw her standing waiting for him to join her.

With one last glorious roar he called out.
The earth quaked and with the magnificent
energy of his youth he ran to join her
floating on the edge of the sky
...written by Dee Edgett

 

PRIMING LADY

Dandelion whispers on the breeze.
Puffy whiteness, twirling with ease.
Gauzy seed heads go floating by,
whirl of dust bunnies drifting high.

Weaving illusions, dressed in frills,
they bob and dart across the hills.
Over the meadows in fancy dress,
some pause awhile to take a rest.

Dancing feathers in graceful flight,
they shimmer softly in the sunlight.
Wild pirouette of ballet dreams
they spin along the blue sky’s seams
..Written by Dee Edgett

 

SURRENDERING

late Spring,
the mountain’s sweet curve
still draped in snow

the blue bones of the sky
are breathless
with anticipation

winter's dark reflections
keep seeping from
the dark cracks along the southern side

the silence cracks
as another tree falls

surrender comes
with a subtle touch of warming
...written by Dee Edgett

BOTTOMLESS DREAMS

 

there are bottomless dreams
in the pure burning night

the distortions are so lovely
when you hitch your hopes
to the fraying edges of cosmic blue

crook the finger
tilt the tipsy line
that anchors you safely to the familiar

surf the sky,
bare witness to the fate
you’re willing to create

make the effort,
go fly that kite
and catch a thin slice of that heavenly pie

to dream is a blessing,
so follow yours tonight!

 

DANDELIONS

 

Dandelion whispers on the breeze.
Puffy whiteness, twirling with ease.
Gauzy seed heads go floating by,
whirl of dust bunnies drifting high.

Weaving illusions, dressed in frills,
they bob and dart across the hills.
Over the meadows in fancy dress,
some pause awhile to take a rest.

Dancing feathers in graceful flight,
they shimmer softly in the sunlight.
Wild pirouette of ballet dreams
they spin along the blue sky’s seams

 

 

 

WILDFLOWERS

Wildflowers sway in earth's fine weave
planted not, they just sprang from seed.
Daisies grow amongst buttercups
trying hard, not to interrupt

Morning glories in perfect hue,
with their splash of purple and blue.
Poppies red and the wild pink rose
amidst the sweet grass they all pose.

The bees are buzzing everywhere
lots of nectar for them to share.
Carpets of posies roam about
in fields and pastures they all sprout

 

 

SOMEWHERE

somewhere
my fingers are dreaming
lingering
in a hazy memory

faint echoes of wings fluttering
between this breath
and the last

each flutter
a transient whisper
of something lost

...Written by Dee Edgett

 

A PERFECT DAY

Reflections blaze on ocean bay
that perfect ending to a summer day.
Far horizon’s shedding gold light
as evening comes and day takes flight.

No boats are shifting dreams to shore.
A quiet spot, as sunset pours.
Gold mirrored reflections sinking deep
as twilight comes without a peep.

Bathed in silhouettes of gold bliss
echoing murmurs of sun’s last kiss.
Skylines blend in tranquil repose.
as day is done and shadows close.

 

BLUE GLORIES

Blue glories in wild disarray,
wispy  blooms that now quaintly fall.
Vined flowers that constantly stray
bursting forth with new morning’s call.

Wispy blooms that now quaintly fall.
Nudged by the sun, they intertwine.
Bursting forth with new morning’s call
purplish blue with green threading vine.

Nudged by the sun, they intertwine,
dangling buds in the misty rain.
Purplish blue with green threading vine,
soft petals on my window pane

Dangling buds in the misty rain.
Vined flowers that constantly stray.
Soft petals on my window pane.
Blue glories in wild disarray.

LAZY BONES

 

Just another bright sunny day
with lazy bones on full display.
A picture perfect place to stay
in the sun’s rays, in the sun’s rays.

Heat feels great on his bony face
freckled illusions bob and race.
The breeze and sunlight interlace
a flawless place, a flawless place.

He’ll sit awhile and cool his feet
no need to move, no need to eat.
He is dead tired, so he won’t greet
people he meets, people he meets

 

 

 

LOST POETS..

A TRIBUTE POEM  FOR ALL THE POETS I MET ON ALL POETRY WHO HAVE PASSED

 

 

It would be your last poem
but we wouldn’t know it..
not for a few days.

Survivors trying to unearth
the whys of such swift departures
we take up the scattering
of your last offering.

Diving into your last poem
we meditate more deeply
trying to find meaning
in the grace of your final words.

Nothing satisfies
and the darkness stretches
chilling the bones..
trusting forever
we reread your words.

Like birds searching for scraps
we pick through your poetry
trying to assure ourselves
you will live on.

We fight against the current
that death has left
willing ourselves to
write something in your memory..

We applaud that last bit of poetry
as the final curtain is drawn
knowing there will be no encore
as the poet is now gone.
  Written by Dee Edgett

 

I LOVE YOU

 

I love you..

those words stumble around us
unsure and never spoken,
slightly tantalized by the way the rain
is tapping against the window.
We both shy away from them
as we lean into the rhythm,
our sighs mixing with the rain’s song.

I love you..

the sun is glistening through
tall sweet grass,
Crooning familiar meadow lullabies
that are heavy with heat.
Your lips have claimed mine
and I feel a thousand things
that I am not ready to name.

I love you..

in that old cabin,
I can no longer keep silent
so I  finally say those words
and you whisper back...
I love you too.

                                                        The river beside the cabin
                                                        follows the sound of our loving
                                                        and with noisy murmurs
                                                        it spills our declarations of love
                                                        into the wind.

SEASONS

 

 

 Every season is a dance...

Spring ..
is a prima ballerina
with her delicate
misty movements.
Soft shoed she tiptoes in,
brightening dark days.
She gently bows
before she leaps high
with pastel shades.

Summer...

She is the wild one
salsa dancing barefoot,
her sassy hips lush with movement.
Hot and sensual
she lures us into her dance
with her lengthening days
and warm sultry nights.

Fall...
she is the rambling country girl
promenading left then right
with a blazing fire in her eyes.
She square dances in
with roundabouts and dosey-does
twirling color,
before dipping to brown.

Winter...
she is the cool sophisticated one
elegantly dressed in diamonds
and lacy white
she will waltz you along
in no hurry to move fast.
Reflecting blue from
the cold hue
of frozen things
she shares her beauty
in a slow moving dance...Written by Dee Edgett

...THIS WAS PUBLISHED IN THE PRISM CALENDAR PUT OUT BY ALL POETRY
 

IT WAS AUTUMN

 

It was autumn,
and a far flung moon
danced off stage
as we tiptoed
into love.

A new dawn,
under that tall maple..
watching the curve
of your spine
wrapped in
a blaze of color.

Mad chaos of the leaves,
their fragile curls
cradling us both
while a fragment
of total nothingness
closed over the moment.

Such tender mercies
danced in the wind
as you captured my heart.

SCATTERING MOONLIGHT

 

You’ve been hopping
in and out
of my poetry
scattering moonlight recklessly.

A trail of adjectives
demand I describe
your beauty
and the feel
of your velvety, soft skin..

But it’s the messy moments
that keep popping up
as metaphors.

A foreign language
that speaks
of things unsettled and unsure.
...written by Dee Edgett

  

    BIRTH MOTHER

Her breath with hints of marigold
sang them a fragrant scented song.
Daffodils blooming, shades of gold
wildflowers flow on her sarong.

Crocheted to bodice, wings beating
butterflies bejewel her hair.
New beginning with frail greetings,
wild joy of wing song everywhere.

Corsets of lilies call their name,
petals formed from tears in her eyes.
Fine wings fluttering they all came,
lotus laughter lifts to the skies.

Hints summer on breath of spring
birthing mother of living things.
...written by Dee Edgett

JUST A HINT

Milky stars, with heavenly spark,
twinkling light in the darkest dark.
Great reminder when things are stark,
creator’s mark, creator’s mark.

Against the velvet black I see
a trailing star, now racing free.
Flashing celestial mystery,
made just for me, made just for me.

I raise my hand to catch its beam
to brush my fingers with a dream.
Just a hint, or the smallest gleam
of divine stream, of divine stream.

Skies, silhouetted by the moon,
endless stars across heaven strewn.
A falling star, this month of June,
burnt out too soon, burnt out too soon..
.written by Dee Edgett

 

GOOD DAYS AND BAD

some days, you wake
like a death song
inside a graveyard,
homesick and nomadic

other days you embrace
joy and gratitude
as the wind chimes
measure the breeze
outside your window
..written by Dee Edgett

 

EMBRACING ALL THAT BLUE

art by Robert Bissel

winter had been
long,
filled with desolate shades
of darkness and cold

he awoke from his deep sleep
breath-starved,
longing for warmth and beauty

stretching heaven ward
he willed all that blueness
to move closer

and the sky
so overcome with his desire
unraveled
into a million fluttering pieces
and fell

kissing him from head to toe
with its blissful embrace
    written by Dee Edgett

SPRING SALUTATIONS

 

Spring salutations cheering blue
pink hints with gold wandering through.
Wildflowers dressed in colorful hue
draped in dew, draped in dew.

Sapphire florals, with lacy heads.
Lush petals where butterflies tread.
Graceful cascade of flowers spread
with hints of red, with hints of red.

Butterscotch sun reflecting light
Its reflective mood, burning bright.
Fuchsia blooms such a delight.
Oh what a sight, oh what a sight!

Swift winged birds leaving pink trees,
gliding on a warm spring breeze.
Fields of flowers stroking your knees.
A day to please, a day to please.

                                                     LOVE WAITS

Love waits, like the spring crocus,
folded, petal upon petal,
its inner core alive,
pulsing, curling around its destiny.

There is a rustling,
a knowledge that something
wonderful is forming
under the familiar layers
of friendship.

It is hard to judge that moment
when the fire turns
and the budding spikes
into a colorful display
of new beginnings.

Usually we are surprised
to find something so beautiful
springing from the ordinary.
….written by Dee Edgett

IN EVERY JOURNEY

 

there will be dreams
that get misplaced

hours misused
stretched too thin by worry and neglect

but in every journey
there is the possibility of restoration

each new morning kindles
the gift of beginning again

listen to the wind writing poetry
fresh with new blooming

reach for the stars
as the saffron moon
rewrites your swan song
...written by Dee Edgett

.                                                             RASPBERRY DREAMS

Wildflowers blooming on well kissed lips.

Floral elixir weaving hair clips.
Dancing ballet of butterfly wings.
Amorous humming, announcing spring.

Lavishly brocaded lullabies,
falling across soft lashed sleepy eyes.
Cobalt illusions dancing through gold.
Spring lady rising, sight to behold.

Velvet palms in fine luscious attire.
Unfurling buds, arise near and far.
Raspberry daydreams draped in damp dew.
Spring’s quirky lady dressed in bright hues.

                                              A HINT OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

Silence says enough,
the words leave us
heavier than we were.

We rotate the memories
and pick through the rubble
always at war with the choices
that created us.

We build our lives
on the narratives of our perception

but a hint of something beautiful and holy
keeps nagging the spirit
to remember
the possibilities of being so much more.

..written by Dee Edgett