Fevered desert

The challenge today is to let reality and fantasy blend a bit in the heat, then find a shadowy patch under a tree & write your poem. Visit dVerse for more poetry.

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“Fevered desert”

This is where the porcelain horses gallop,
rasping in the wind as Pachelbel orchestrates
his Canon in D. This is where mocking woodwinds muffle
thundering ironed feet across peat and
dared riders leap adagio and free over twisted falls.
And this is where my misfit toes dig
inside cooling sands and where I am lulled
inside the fevered painted sky.

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Desert thirst

 I spent the better part of Sunday attempting to write a Decima as described and prompted at naming constellations. I won’t even begin to say that I succeeded as I’m still not even sure I did it right. What a struggle. Today’s poem is the Sunday Poetic Bloomings prompt: Water, water, water. Or no water at all.

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Bleak
parched love
a hazy mirage of baby’s breath—

my desert sanctuary,
like
liquid silver

on wounded lips, raw cheeks
rough on my lone lonely heart.
sand-whipped
eyes too blind

to see the shifting art—
sidewinder paintings,
sun-scorched passion,

jeweled tribal veils
snapping in the wind.

I draw
imagined
baskets of water
from the arid oasis
drinking the mirage
of our love.

Poetic Bloomings Prompt 59