A place to gather words before they get lost.
Day 8 “I gazed—and gazed—but little thought” — William Wordsworth, I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45521/i-wandered-lonely-as-a-cloud
These Forget-Me-Nots remind me of the summer we began dancing in the field of small blue flowers to a music in our mind – you humming a melody as I sang a wordless song, trailing just behind
Remnants of a moon; night dust and refracted light slumbering on glass
for Algot
Dec 7 Advent of Joy
“so joy.us” — Vladimir Lucien, uses of the erotic https://poets.org/poem/uses-erotic
silence/spoken poets woven by words your words my words our words us:
Breathe
Dec 6 Advent of Joy
“Ah, we should have a land of joy” – Langston Hughes, Our Land https://poets.org/poem/our-land
So we should, but it's understood how far off we are from such a noble goal, and so we find ourselves at home, tending joy within four walls, the place where we can still make love happen
Dec 1 “Joy is not made to be a crumb” — Mary Oliver, Don't Hesitate https://www.best-poems.net/mary-oliver/don-t-hesitate.html
Cake maybe is more like it – baked then sliced into sections, every question a forkful for another quiet reason to close your eyes - let's begin again to breathe in the sweet of joy
Dec 2 “He who binds to himself a joy” — William Blake, Eternity https://poets.org/poem/eternity
Frayed strings with broken lines, a poem sometimes can feel like its always on the verge of falling apart, and then, not
Dec 3 “... the joy that throws everything it has upon the dust, and knows not a word” — Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali 58
Swept up into sand, little particles rushing in; you gasp you breathe you gasp to know the words, only to swallow what is best left misunderstood
Dec 4 “... luminous joy: it simply spins” — Andrew Hudgins, Blur https://poets.org/poem/blur
Weaver, remember me when the wheel's no longer broken, my thoughts now spoken in a whisper
Dec 5 “Joy lives behind people's eyes” — Hilda Conkling, Joy
Who'd wear glasses on days like these when what we need most is to gaze deep into each other's eyes, languishing in the moment, if only for a minute
Thanks to Deanna for her Advent of Joy poetic calendar https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Wj3kZufH72IdE7QZbN9WJZU4xWNxhVzM-vik2g1QQoM/present#slide=id.p
A red cardinal depends too much on the snow, hiding white chickens
(with apologies to William Carlos Williams)
Keep low to the ground, Junco; refuse to be found - be the mystery
We cup our fingers to hold the moon tight, its light shimmers inside us
On a cold, cold night, we huddle near the fire; stories as kindling
Such tiny packets dipped in hot water, steeped and set for comfort