Tag Archives: quadrille poem

Warm Heart

Warm Heart

The small dogs are still warm from their day’s exertion
curled into balls—one at my feet above the covers,
the other, too small or timid to leap up to the bed,
a tight knot in her cushy denim bed just a yard away.

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt, the subject this week is warmth.

To see the prompt and to read some wonderful poems on the subject of warmth, go here:https://dversepoets.com/2022/11/28/dverse-quadrille-165-warmly/

Yolanda for the dVerse Poet’s Pub

Click on photos to enlarge.

Yolanda

She plucks the dirty clothes
like field flowers from the basket,
her journey to the laundry
another joyful excursion 
from room to room in my house.
Did she enjoy her vacation? I ask.
She shakes her head no.
She’d rather be working,
she insists.

Every task,
fulfilled to perfection,
builds her pleasure in the day.
She dusts the picture frames,
folds the towels,
steals her dusting cloth back from the playful puppy,
then takes the dish sponge from my hand.
Let her, she says,
and you go write a poem!

Y, en espanol. Gracias, Lisa.  oxoxox

Yolanda

Ella arranca la ropa sucia
como flores de campo de la canasta,
su viaje a la lavandería
otra excursión
alegre de habitación en habitación en mi casa.
¿Disfrutó de sus vacaciones? Pregunto.
Ella sacude la cabeza no.
Ella preferiría estar trabajando,
ella insiste.

Cada tarea,
cumplido a la perfección,
construye su placer en el día.
Ella desempolva los marcos de los cuadros,
dobla las toallas,
roba su tela de polvo del cachorro juguetón,
 luego toma la esponja del plato de mi mano.
Déjala, dice,
 ¡y vas a escribir un poema!

A double quadrille for the dVerse Poets Pub, the task set by Lisa is to compose a quadrille on the topic of work. To see the prompt itself and the wonderful poems it quotes to name the task, go HERE. And to read poems that answer the prompt, go HERE.

Morning Chorus

Morning Chorus

Morning opens one eyelid,
casting eyelash shadows
across the terraza. 
The small dog whines a greeting
as the dogwalker opens the garden gate.
Tap tap of woodpecker in the tallest palm.
Echo of church bells.
Only the first sunrays
silent in this early morn.

For dVerse Poets 
HERE is the prompt.

Black-eyed Susan

Black-eyed Susan

Nothin’s as amusin’
as my darling black-eyed Susan.
Arms spread in the sun
to welcome anyone.

But when the sun goes down,
and she dons her evening gown,
the only one allowed to see
my black-eyed girl is lucky me.

For dVerse Poets Pub #147: Quadrille “Eye”. For more responses to the prompt, go HERE.

Picky Eater

Picky Eater

I can’t stand mushrooms, abhor liver.
To dine on brains just makes me shiver.

Drinking milk’s against my wishes.
Fish is simply for the fishes.

Raw tomatoes? I’d rather die.
And one more mouthful I won’t try?
I have no taste for humble pie!

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Shiver

Missed Americas

Missed Americas

Now that they are runway-bound,
those extravagantly gowned
are oft-driven to expound
with words not overly profound
about beliefs they’ve newly found
(overheard and swiftly downed)
just because they love the sound,
hoping in the final round,
their golden tongues will get them crowned.

 

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Crown.
Image from  BBC.

Zombie Ball

Zombie Ball

Slice of liver, ooze of spleen—
add them to the soup tureen.
See all the pallid corpses preen?
They seek to woo the zombie queen.
Complexions chalky white or green
through the haunted house careen,
much rowdier on Halloween
than all the holidays between.

 

For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Careen

 

“Ash” for dVerse Poets

Ash

Wood to ash and flesh to dust,
stone to sand and iron to rust.
Leather snaps and fabrics fray.
All things living must wear away.
What we seek to save, we save in vain.
Nature wipes out every gain,
and blessedly, also our pain.

 

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt: Ash (44 words only)

Gauntlet

 

Gauntlet

Cold as ice, brittle as bone. 
Lethal as a well-aimed stone.
Nonetheless, it’s you I crave— 
calculating, clever, brave. 
Though you fit me like a glove, 
you’re not predisposed to love. 
How long will your memory linger
as you’re peeled off, finger by finger?

 

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt: Stone

Hermit’s Creed


Hermit’s Creed

Although they stand stiffly at attention,
these walls reach out

and hold me safe within their middle.
They stand guardian,
cushioning sound,
deflecting sharp edges.
Lucky me to have their protection.
Foolish me to leave their arms.
Yet the butterfly
soars over and away.

 

For dVerse Poets “Stand” Quadrille prompt. The only rule for a quadrille poem is that it must have  exactly 44 words. If you want to read other poems written to this prompt, go HERE.