Of forgotten words

I slip into the fading twilight,

words fall through my mind in perfect time

to the breath that grows deeper

and I long to be able to remember

all of these beautiful words that fell into place

like ants walking in a perfect line

one after another

moving forward with their goal

as mine was to save each of these images

and words that I felt were so fitting

knowing that with the coming of the dawn,

they would be scattered about


and it left me sad in a way

but I knew that at some point,

walking that path they would come back again,

to find me waiting

for a midnight masterpiece

that was born

then slipped into the darkness,

a mere memory


Perhaps it is the whisper of the pink moon

searching over water into my thoughts,

stirring up a calm and peaceful way

that waits for just the right and perfect moment,

sneaking in to rouse me

to come out to play

in coming days.

Maybe the words will be there

as I stand alone under her distant gaze

perhaps she will share with me the memory forgotten

and with the rise of the sun

it will all fall into place

as fingers move

with forgotten grace.

Gifts of life

Sweetness tasted in ripples of thought

Variety of the flavors of life,

Names of love on happiness signs

Treats of words

Poet of love.

A nut-induced whisper

With a chunk-o-laughter

Burnt sugar melting from here to ever after

In memories of verse

You heard it here first.

Would you like a sample

They’re always free

Like peace and love and everything in between

Neither name mine

But a tribute to goodness

Lip-licking amazingness

With every last drop,

Sticky-good words to coat the soul

With happy-like sprinkles

And grateful cherries,

Magic-delight in every thought bite,

Not sure if this is right

But it is what it is

Thank you for buying

Be sure to drop back in.

By cone or by cup

Love eating it up.

Not sure where I was going with this but Steve Winwood wouldn’t get out of my head and I think I got lost in the cream. Probably not quite a kenning but it eh, who cares….

And finally, our prompt (optional, as always)! Today’s prompt comes to us from Vince Gotera, who suggests a prompt very much in keeping with our poet in translation, a “kenning” poem. Kennings were riddle-like metaphors used in the Norse sagas. Basically, they are ways of calling something not by its actual name, but by a sort of clever, off-kilter description — for example, the sea would be called the “whale road.” Today, I challenge you to think of a single thing or person (a house, your grandmother, etc), and then write a poem that consists of kenning-like descriptions of that thing or person. For example, you might call a cat a mouse-stalker, quiet-walker, bird-warner, purr-former, etc.