Tag Archives: skies

Spring verses

birds fill the heavens
with movement and song
just so   dearest   do you fill me

flowers cover the earth
with perfume and color
with butterflies and bees
just so do you fulfill me   love

the sun enlivens the rivers
with heat and light leaping
like fish in Spring’s delirium
just so   dearest   do you rouse me

stars pour forth into night
their jewels and dreams of beauty
just so do you enrich me   love

my bird of paradise
exquisite flower
sun without peer
my dazzling star
I brim with you   love
I spill over

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2013

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willow (for Lan)

beloved!   you are the willow
that hides the stars from the crickets
the crickets that sing in the grass

through the skies and dreams of autumn
move the clouds   like old men
all too drunk on rice wine

but the night wind dances
with the willow    with the willow
that hides the stars from the crickets
the crickets that sing in the grass

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll 2013

haiku

blue   white   band on band
cloud-striped skies roll over me
awe lifts my vexed heart

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2013

tempest

returning to the island
we can see the storm in the distance
darkened clouds roiling the heavens

by the time the boat reaches mid harbor
the skies darken most ominously
as rain teems across the ferry’s bow

among the two score voyagers on the open deck
hoods of those wearing hoodies sprout up quickly
mutely they stand like monks in cowls at vespers’ end

soon we’re in a cavern of wind and sheet lightning
then strike staggered cracking bolts of white incandescent dream
followed by rumblings and booms and snaps of thunder

as we approach the shore    now wind-maddened rain
flings itself at us    batters us    clambers over us
from all sides as the ferry sidles into the open slip

we on deck in the open have been awed
by the storm’s sudden might    its fury
sodden  we just stand compliantly like dogs

awaiting the leash    yet ours is the power
to put all that in a flurry of ordered words
these jots and tittles with which – like a storm –
to stir things up   to make one feel   to live in the moment

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2013

Flying at night: a memory

Through the skies like a hand
that pleasures you slowly I go.
Like some god upon his Olympus
I see below me the silent body
of night.  As if coasting I watch while
the artful lights of earth overwhelm the stars.
But in my weary heart they pale
before the memory of your doting eyes
that flash in the warm purple of our love.

*     *    *

(c) Gregory V Driscoll  2011

Again

They have taken down the stars and the gibbous moon
to tack up these pasteboard skies.
Remodeling, I suppose, this Nature
which, despite your having gone, still retains some charm.
But one must have the proper mood,
or so they say.  And see.  They have attained their goal:
Once more I write a poem that thinks, again, of you.

*     *    *

(c) Gregory V Driscoll  2011