I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

10 April 2017

Sunset On My Street















Inside the houses under the streetlight
the children, called in from play at twilight 
by careful mothers, have all been fed
and folded safely into their beds.

Now the mothers' and fathers' hands
are washing dishes, last of the demands
of the day, and then turning on the TV.
Outside, sky-watching, is only me ...

though perhaps old ghosts from down the hill,
ghosts of riverbank tribes, may still
wake on such nights of tempestuous sky
to gaze too as windblown clouds fly high –

inky and murky, and flushed aflame
in more shades of red than I can name,
and tawny and gold, and even some white 
behind the black trees, just ahead of night.


Day 10 of April Poetry Month at 'imaginary garden with real toads' is for Poem Sketching: using word lists as a preliminary sketch for a poem. We were given a choice of selecting from some given word lists, or choosing words for one of our own photos and then using a thesaurus to make them richer. I did both (but kept my own nouns un-enriched):

tribe riverbank ghosts names 
mother folds twilight hands

inky tempestuous tawny flushed 
trees clouds sky houses streetlight


12 comments:

  1. I can imagine you and the ghosts sitting and marveling at this night sky.Nicely done.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beautiful and inviting. The last stanza is my favorite. (Every time I read one of your poems, I am certain I want to come live with you.)

    ReplyDelete
  3. My goodness!❤️This is such a calming and evocative write, especially love; "inky and murky, and flushed aflame in more shades of red than I can name, and tawny and gold, and even some white behind the black trees, just ahead of night" Beautifully executed!❤️


    PS: Gorgeous picture!❤️

    ReplyDelete
  4. A great way of creative stimulation and complete with the added rhyming too.A clever way of doing it Rosemary!
    http://imagery77.blogspot.my/2017/04/her-alluring-come-hither-looks.html

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well, you're the master of word-list poems, Hank, so I am very glad you like it. (Smile.)

      Delete
  5. What a GORGEOUS sky!!!!! wow. I love the idea of the ghosts waking to witness such a display.

    ReplyDelete
  6. A wonderful drift of the imagination. Thank you for carrying me along.

    ReplyDelete
  7. "just ahead of night" is all about the pretty time of day. I also liked the street lights coming on, 'just before they are needed.'
    ..

    ReplyDelete
  8. What a wonderful way to describe sunset.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Loved the description made in the last stanza :)

    ReplyDelete
  10. ghosts of riverbank tribes,

    That is a wonderfully, comforting thought I think... when everyone else is in and you find yourself stargazing - the peace and connection is really cool... Lovely poem.

    ReplyDelete

Comments are moderated and will be visible after being approved by the blog owner. If you can only comment anonymously, please include your name in the comment, just so I know who's talking to me.