Poetry for a Night Owl

2009-11-04T16:39:00.002Z

Full moon -this morning

falling asleep in the arms

of the rising sun

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-10-09T09:56:00.001+01:00

Unanswered questions

swept away in a whirlwind --

fallen leaves

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-09-02T11:31:00.004+01:00

Dawn --a little paler,

and wilting honeysuckle

at the frosted window

Tanka XXIV

2009-07-27T21:16:00.004+01:00

.
flowers bloom
even under a summer storm
petals unfolding
What have you done to my heart,
shuttered to the brightest sun?

©2009 Beatrice V

Tanka XXIII

2009-07-10T16:03:00.004+01:00

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Tonight the Thames
carves a translucent jade bowl
of a July rose moon;
many moons past -- since you and I,
shared wine from the same cup

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-07-04T18:13:00.005+01:00

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in sweltering heat

dew-drops of sweat on my brow

planting snowflakes

(Snowflakes, garden plant: Gypsophila Paniculata)

©2009 Beatrice V

Tanka

2009-06-29T13:10:00.008+01:00

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stiffling morning heat

last night's thunder nothing but

--an unkept promise

once, you went to fetch the moon

and like the rain, didn't return.

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-06-26T08:06:00.001+01:00

Midsummer night

lingering in rose garden

--scented memories

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-06-21T17:02:00.000+01:00

By the canal
sharing a summer lunch,
the ducks and I

The strolling tourists
wool-wrapped for the occasion
-- midsummer in England

2009-06-18T11:40:00.000+01:00

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a tiny spider

crawling back and forth

weaving --another day

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-06-12T11:41:00.000+01:00

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a passing swallow

takes flight in the blue morning

my thoughts on its wings

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-06-11T09:21:00.002+01:00

Waking up

to the crackle of dawn;

sunrise

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-06-03T23:15:00.004+01:00

the setting sun

hesitates for a moment,

caught on a building-crane

©2009 Beatrice V

2009-06-01T19:27:00.010+01:00

Bright June sky

shadows anticipate the night

--the elusive moon

©2009 Beatrice V

Beginning and End

2009-05-29T22:46:00.006+01:00

In the rose garden
I wait for the beloved
until the stars dawn in tear-dew.

Roses wilt
in the noon sun,
outside the gates
--as you carouse.

The desert parches my throat,
but the cool moon
washes away the night.

Rose gardens fade
into verdant oases
of crystalline water
and succulent fruit.

In turning away,
we come face to face
with one another

unbeknown to us yet,
is the path’s beginning and end,
hidden in the midst of our embrace.

van de Vis, Beatrice: "Beginning and End" published in Silence On A BrokenTrain by Publishing Room.com, 2009

2009-05-29T17:38:00.006+01:00

honeysuckle scent,

in the breeze, the moon turns

into a flared nostril

In the looking glass

2009-05-22T00:19:00.005+01:00

A fairy of gossamer and silk,
with fine wings;
blooms in hand, as stiff as a question mark.
Unfolding arcane ritual, ceremonies,
special robes, face paint and sweetmeats;

Rites of passage, to music and dance.
In this liminal space between past and future
between freedom and duty
between excitement and fear
between nights of lust and sleepless

child-worn nights
between being whole and splitting in half
--the wedding day.
Blooms already fading,
in the looking glass --broken wings.

van de Vis, Beatrice: "In the Looking Glass" published in Silence On A Broken Train by Publishing Room.com, 2009

Mondays -the corner table

2009-05-15T12:15:00.013+01:00

Around the magic circle cast by Harriet’s spell,
sit the wordcrafters, spinning wondrous tales.
Here Anthony sets the stage with fairy lights.
We are the revellers dancing away the night.

In this changing kaleidoscope, we espy
Stephen hitting a ball on the golf course,
which at all once bursts into rhyme!
We’re green grass, peppered in a confetti of verse.

Now Gill reaches up, to pull down the ceiling
and reveal to us the starry African sky,
all scary night, but we have fairy lights on the path.
We’re the scent of the night, the song and the stars.

The wind blows cinders from Jane’s conflagration,
her perennial existential question threatens
the frivolity of the night, with fear in our hearts
--we whirl in the arms of the shadow flames.

Recalling the brevity of this life, dawn snuggles up
to the night, Maria’s Magyar song wakes the day;
in an enchanted forest with mythic beasts,
we are life celebrants, to the strains of her violin.

©2009 Beatrice V

Haiku LXXXIII

2009-05-15T08:21:00.003+01:00

Books

2009-05-08T12:26:00.012+01:00

Plates of delicacies
Fired by longing
Rest on the windowsill of knowledge
Submissive to the stick of curiosity
-In my books.

Sticks of curiosity
Rubbed into fire.
Through a window
--light falling on a plate
flames that speak in tongues,
the world --surreal, inside of books.

van de Vis, Beatrice: "Books" published in Silence On A Broken Train by Publishing Room.com, 2009

Haiku LXXXII

2009-05-06T19:44:00.014+01:00

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Late march winds
scattering a faint scent
of mimosa

van de Vis, Beatrice- Magnapoets (Japanese Form) - issue 4, July 2009 ISSN 1916-3010

Haiku LXXXI

2009-03-30T09:55:00.009+01:00

buds come to life
even in the chill wind of March
-new beginnings

Haiku LXXVIII

2009-03-22T20:21:00.005Z

Tanka XXI

2009-03-18T00:52:00.008Z

Cherry blossom
without a care in this world
-year after year.
Yet, why do I bemoan your
absence, when spring doesn’t care?

©2009 Beatrice V

Sand and Dust

2009-03-01T11:35:00.016Z

Your amber eyes are liquid gold with lust
fierce under the sun of African noon-fire,
we smile behind a veil of Atlas dust,
two tightrope artists walking the high wire

loud beats the drum of our hearts’ desire
the light, piercing under the cloudless sky,
orange- blossom inebriated; we conspire,
we have become drunk on love, that is why.

We have come to Marrakesh. That is why,
but did she warn us, the wily fortune teller,
of the dark hollow underbelly of day?
When the end comes -surprised, we take no cover.

Time forgotten ghosts tremble in my hand,
old parched photographs crumble into sand.

©2009 Beatrice V