what began as year-long challenge has become perpetual until further notice
No Canzonetta this week either…funny how that happens! Poetry is like that.
Instead, the colaborative RENGA by Lesley, Ali, Lani, Carol, Judy, Jean, Yvonne, Kelly, Kerry, Sandra, Mary-Anne, Toby and Angela with an afterword by Jo.
A bright green sky
Ancient monument to blood
Stop right there, red.
Red flanders poppies waving
To greet us on our way to Pitigliano.
Soft dove-grey women
Sit gossiping on stone benches
In backstreets amid roses.
Blood orange splashes land on
worn piazza stones, marking my place here.
A drunken Italian shout
Against quiet stone
Arches caught mid-flight, their souls
Set free in birds and bells.
Who walked here before
Ran their hands along these walls
Gossiped, laughed, loved, lived?
We are now part of this story
Present becomes past, becomes…
Present perfect, here and now
Pasta with perfect sweet tomatoes
Basil in olive oil perfecto
How many tomorrows
Will remind us of today….?
What memories we hold close
The fragrant red rose
The aroma of cuisine.
Soup for the soul, nurturing
How the mind and heart smile.
Write, eat, drink and talk
Watch a mouse cutting a grass stalk
Cook, learn, listen, walk.
At the end of the day
We’re also here to play.
Base notes, bells of voices, excavating, disciplining
Mist obscuring light of Christ
Celestial chirping to grasp your soul.
Heaven lands on Gigi’s table
We are all (of) de vine.
Summertime, tread lightly
Through a Tuscan hedgerow
Gigi – generous, gentle smile,
Soft ecological heart.
Wind on my cheeks
Clouds of incense
Wind on my cheeks.
Let’s fall down here
Between my girlfriend’s breasts.
Women of many seasons
Celebrate the summer’s start
Bearing all to the night sky.
Suspended between land and sea
New inspiration awaits.
Feel the birds, feel the bells
Digging deeper, ever deeper
Like marble gouged from the hills.
Walk the eternal lover’s way
Open to this ancient sea.
Tuscany, beautiful and enticing and writing!
Women grace love, laughter and tears
Journey’s ending, dynamics changing.
Pens poised to write the last lines
The door is open – a book, poem or play…
How was your trip? they will ask
…. scarves and scars
Tits and tats
Thongs and sarongs
Laughter half in light,
Half loved by shadow
Here to say yes ….
What will you say?
What will you say, when they ask?
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