Ekphrastic Poem #4: COME AWAY WITH ME, IF ONLY IN OUR DREAMS

This next installment in the Van Gogh-inspired poems is, I must admit, not entirely of the ekphrastic genre.  That is, the general idea for the poem and a few of the lines (including the one that forms the title) came to me prior to jumping into in my ekphrastic project.  On the other hand, the poem came to fruition based on Van Gogh's "Garden with courting couples:  Square Saint Pierre." So, I'm calling it ekphrastic.

(If you happen to be a syllable counter like me, especially with poems of this sort, you'll note that I am not consistent. Most of the lines have nine syllables, but the first has eleven, others eight, and one line has nine or ten, depending on how you pronounce "hours." Love is not bound by form and structure, why should the poem? I think there is a certain rhythm, though.)


COME AWAY WITH ME, IF ONLY IN OUR DREAMS


Come away with me, if only in our dreams,
to a place where reason has no sway,
where love and passion reign supreme,
and pleasure rules throughout the day.

Come walk with me in the summer sun,
through verdant meadows bright with flowers
to a place where we can be as one,
and lose ourselves in rapturous hours,
our bodies wrapped in love’s embrace,
and in each other find sweet grace.

Another poem in Three Line Poetry

Just had another poem published in Three Line Poetry.  This makes five poems.  Here's the latest:


She turned and kissed me softly.
I could not force my mind
to remain within the dream.

Three Line Poetry

The following poem was just published by Three Line Poetry for inclusion in Issue 3:

So long had it been
Since I held a spring blossom--
I had forgotten.

ODDS AND ENDS

(various haiku and tanka and a few deviations from strict form)



End of day, and now
the sound of rushing water
as I sat creek-side,
the warm sun and peaceful breeze--
just a cold night memory.
__________________________

Lavender and teal--
the colors of the dawn sky.
You are still asleep.
__________________________

Peach and blue today.
You are still asleep, while I
enjoy dawn alone.
__________________________

I sit on the pier;
the river flows slowly past.
So much like my life.
__________________________

River laps on shore,
a light breeze cools my body.
I don't want to leave.
__________________________

Calm water, light breeze;
quiet morning on the pier
writing simple lines
of haiku and tanka
while everyone else sleeps.
__________________________

Gray fisherman wading along our beach
how awkward you look,
and yet a certain majesty
as you stand motionless
Observing.
___________________________

Walking Columbus,
I think I may have taken
a wrong direction.

(written after walking along Columbus Street in San Francisco)
___________________________

She leaned against me,
then turned slowly in my arms
and kissed me softly.
I could not force my mind
to remain within the dream.
__________________________

White snow on green grass;
clouds obscure the dawning sun--
a New Year begins.
__________________________

Clouds part; sun lights way.
I resolve to not resolve.
A New Year begins.
__________________________

Dead roses lie on the table,
still bundled as they came from the store.
For want of water, they withered.
__________________________

THOUGHTS WHILE VIEWING VAN GOGH'S "FISHING BOATS ON THE BEACH AT LES SAINTES MARIES DE LA MER"

[Published in Do Not Look At The Sun, "Postcards from Paris," Issue #5 (Spring 2011]

THOUGHTS WHILE VIEWING VAN GOGH'S "FISHING BOATS ON THE BEACH AT LES SAINTES MARIES DE LA MER"


In the gallery,
alone
(although surrounded by others),
I think of you.

I wish you were here
to tell me just how much you love
the colors of the boats on the shore,
their rich reds and greens and blues,
and why you sense sadness in the painting.

Tell me,
would you be on one of the boats sailing away?
Or, would you be standing with me on the shore?

DEAD ROSES

[Published in The Beatnik, March 26, 2011, on-line at http://whollycommunion.blogspot.com/]

DEAD ROSES


Dead roses lie on the table,
still bundled as they came from the store,
for want of water, they withered.