Calling

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Little garden pond

longs to be round as the sky —

Moon reflects on that.

,

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(c) 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Image from copyright free source in 2012)

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Carnival

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On waves of teal sea-shine

we catch a glossy ride

to chase our lost horizons

and race the rising tide.

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We lean to gather white-caps

and taste their salty plumes

till purple weaves a blanket

and wraps us ’round the moon.

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(c) 1992, 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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Wist

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It doesn’t seem

that long ago

you came

but could not stay.

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Our paths were crossed

and time got lost –

seems only yesterday, and yet

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the moon still beams

and waxes full

above the sea

beyond the knoll

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where we grew young

so long ago

when Eros came to play.

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© 2019  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Just another entropic scribble.  🙂  )

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Virgo

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Sunlight shrinks away

behind the thin of poplar trees,

spiders throw red shadows

in the paths of tired bees,

spells of a waxing moon are cast

and dragonflies change speed

with just a touch of madness

as summer goes to seed.

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(c) 1993, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2011 – revised)

.Photo by Ithalu Dominguez on Pexels.com

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Interlude

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Sometimes it opens

just a crack,

that heavy door –

and she will see

his lamp aflame

and though she’s not

the only one

to bring his tray,

his cup of ale,

she always comes

to mind the steel

in his eyes,

those eyes

that recognize the fool,

that see the masks

of dark agenda

in the winks of falsity.

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She always comes

that he may rest awhile.

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She lets him count

the gathers

and the pleating

in her bodice,

and she lets him

fold her hair

across his face

to hide his smile.

And she will stay

for just awhile

until the moon has risen

and he calls out

for the guard

to secret her away.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(a Maeberie series poem, revised)

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The Wait

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And she will dwell

in a cottage of white

and wait for him

at the river’s edge

with birds and breezes

tending the trees.

And they’ll be coming

through the woods,

the poets and flutists

late at night

and after they’re gone

she’ll dance naked

through

the wildflowers

beneath the moon

a yellow ribbon

tied around her heart.

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(c) 1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post from 2012)

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Clouds

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Last night

I saw your moon

silver,

waxing full

between the clouds,

its hug

wrapping me to sleep.

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This morning

I saw your sunrise

coral,

spreading low

through the clouds,

its breath

flushing over my cheeks.

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Tonight

I see your sunset

violet,

easing down

below the clouds,

its rays

combing out my dreams.

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(c)  1982, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Written in 1982, taken out of mothballs and revised.)

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Totality

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Was that the moon

or just a mood

that crawled across the sun?

For awhile

it seemed the day

had lost its way

leaving just

the steaming edges

of its magnitude.

But all things pass

and so this too

that shadow-stealing

interlude,

we’re warm again

the sky is blue,

the sun

was just in need

of a little Sol i tude.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(Hopefully many of you will get to witness the solar eclipse tomorrow as it crosses the U.S. It’ll be at 98% totality from here in SW Washington. Can’t wait!)

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(revision of 2012 poem “Eclipse”)

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Before Sunset

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Moon like an opal

hanging from a coral thread

veiled by fairy clouds.

 

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(c) 2013, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post, revised; photo from 2013)

 

 

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Haiku #89 – Transition

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Sun gives it all up

for lavender and yellow;

tree launches the moon.

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©  2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(Photo taken by my son,  Jason Judd)

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