(Painting by Jane Kohut-Bartels, watercolor, book “Song of the Nightingale” published by Createspace, Amazon, 2015)
Maybe not only for Spring, but with all this pollen outside, it’s hard to breathe, so short forms of poetry fit. Some of these tanka break the rules, also. But they can reform.
I see that my computer isn’t forming the text properly, but it’s rather interesting. Breaks the mold.
–The moon floats on wisps Of clouds extending outward. Tendrils of white fire Blanketing the universe Gauzy ghosts of nothingness.
— Come into my arms. Bury under the warm quilt. Your scent makes me drunk Like the wine we gulped last night. Too much lust and drink to think.
—– Give me a moment! To catch my breath and settle. Give me some peace now. Stop kissing my hands, stop it! What if someone is watching?
—- Presence of Autumn Burst of color radiates From Earth-bound anchors Sun grabs prismatic beauty And tosses the spectrum wide!
— Bolts of lightening flash! The sky brightens like the day too soon it darkens. My eyes opened or closed see the futility of love.
— Had I not known life I would have thought it all dreams. Who is to tell truth? It comes at too sharp a price. Better to bear flattery.
– Cranes wheeled in the sky Their chiding cries fell to hard earth Warm mid winter day A pale half moon calls the birds To stroke her face with soft wings.
– Glimpse of a white wrist Feel the pulse of blood beneath- This is seduction! But catch a wry, cunning smile One learns all is artifice.
How could I forget The beauty of the pale moon! A face of sorrow Growing thin upon the tide Creates a desperation.
Thin, silken breezes Float upon a green-ribbon Of spring—pale season. Scent of lilies, myrtle, plum Arouse bees from slumber.