The rain has passed

The wind is cool, it stirs the birdbath water pool

Wind-chimes ring a slow sweet song

Dancing branches all day long

 

Trees are opening up their leaves

Seems like all at once to me

Unfurling buds in bright spring green

Make the world all new and clean

 

Dandelions with their yellow light

Scattered ‘cross the lawn so bright

My peaceful Sunday afternoon

Wraps me in its warm cocoon

 

 

 

Diane E. Dockum

© May 15, 2016

 

 

 

Just a note to thank everyone for your responses to my Poetry Month contributions throughout April. It has been quite an exercise.

I will try not to let a whole year go by before I feel creative again. It is true that the secret of writing is to write. This always reminds me that you can pull something forward if you only give it time.

Just be gentle with yourself, sit and think a while. Let the world go on without you for just an hour or so. You can do it.

 

Thanks,

Diane

 

 

 

 

As you sit in the dark room

Your hands bound

Your heart on the ground

My heart lies beside yours there

 

Black water cold and deep

Laps up around your ankles

And mist cools the very air you breathe

And my throat is full to see you there

 

My throat is full of unshed tears

My spirit aches to hold you

My shoulder is dry without your tears

I offer it up to you

 

The sounds of your silent screams

Are deafening

If only my love were enough

To heal your sadness and anger

 

If only love could lift you up

To see where she went –

She has gone over the wall

To the other side without you

 

If only she could have stayed

A little longer

The pull was strong

The call was heard and she said “here I am.”

 

 

By Diane E. Dockum

©July 2009 (original) and April 2016

blue, purple, orange

sky over the horizon

takes my breath away

 

out the back window

darkness spreads shadow

up the  bare tree trunks

 

colors of evening

water colors dripping down

the canvas of sky

 

 

by Diane E. Dockum

©April 29, 2016

 

 

The last time I saw him
he smiled
a weak and trembling grin.
His eyes were wet and
losing their luster.

The last time I saw him
He didn’t look back
but drove off undaunted
into his own future.

I knew he wasn’t coming back.
Even then I refused
to accept it.
Even now I find it
hard to believe.

The last time I saw him
he packed up his books and
zipped closed all his bags
with a flourish of his wrist.

It was raining.
It still is inside me,
where there is
an empty place.

 
Excerpt From: Diane E. Dockum. “Just Beyond The Hill.”

The next morning

I went shopping online

For a poem

Idea

Having forgotten my

Dream

 

Clicking through photos

And words

Finding

Nothing interesting

I shut my eyes

And behind my lids

 

There was only

Red light

And the sound of blood

In my brain

If you are quiet enough

You can hear the ocean

 

In your veins

All I need

Is to strike a mental match

And light

A candle in my mind

 

 

By Diane E. Dockum

©April 27, 2016

 

 

Some people bring out your inner witch

And before you know it

You have become a nasty bitch

 

Though you try to be calm

You let off a bomb, your adrenaline

At a high pitch

 

“They deserve it”,

You say, though it ruins your day

With your feelings about to unhitch

 

Your breath comes in pants

Because of your rants

The vein in your forehead pronounced

 

Away to the bathroom you go to cool off

Shut the door,

Turn the lock, and chill out

 

Whisper-scream in the mirror

Get a grip – let it go

And get rid of your justified furor

 

 

 

 

By Diane E. Dockum

©April 26, 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You are 3 days into

Your sandal wearing

And you’ve just

Done your toenails

The last thing you want

To hear is that

Snow is expected

This weekend.

 

This weekend!

When it’s almost May

And Mother’s Day is around the corner

A cold front is coming!

Across from Canada

And it should be very wet

And cold with snow.

The temperature will drop

In the next few days.

 

What would you do?

Resolutely wear sandals

Or dig the boots out from

The back of your closet —

It can’t last forever, right?

It probably won’t even last a day, right?

I fleer at the forecast.

Sandals on the feet,

Socks in the purse,

Emergency back up plan.

 

 

 

By Diane E. Dockum

© April 25, 2016

 

 

I tip back my head as far as it goes

To see as far as my eyes can see

The stars are so many

Filling the depths

Of space

Farther than imagination stretches

To visions unseen and ages old

Still unfolding

As our planet spins

Night sky

Unpolluted by street lights

Is hard to find now

But I come from the

Country where there is true night

Where unspoiled

Stars are sharp as straight pins

And feel like

Sprinkles of ice water

On your face as you

Tip back your head

To quench your soul

By Diane E. Dockum

©April 24, 2016

living on both sides

of “awake” and “asleep”

I try to understand reality

without using my mind

 

 

By Diane E. Dockum

©April 23, 2016