Last night the Blood moon, a luminous red marble, stunning and simple. Today a quiet house, a break in the rain and opportunity to write a bit, and even though my “to do” list is longer than I can possibly accomplish, I take a break and spend time drinking coffee and staring out the window, spellbound and decide to write a poem. A poem. A derivative thought. In April I wrote my first poem, and here, eight months later, forgive me, but I am seriously ADDICTED to writing poetry.
There is something silver And brilliant when Sunbeams break through Filtered clouds On wintry waters Making Icy diamonds That glitter on The shimmering surface. A bright trajectory of Brilliant light that Beckons me Holds me Mesmerizes me. Until. The crash of the waves The cry of an eagle A car passes and Breaks the spell. Out of the dream. One more glance and I turn towards Life's rougher things.