NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 9

Dark purple swirling
in the cauldron,
with the air of cinnamon rising.
Grape juice spiced,
lapping widdershins
over low orange flames.
Chant ladled in
along with rind,
and sugar to further sweeten
the spell.
How to know the right moment,
when the potion is set?
Images come and go
in the liquid:
dolphin diving,
swimming.
When it rises, first in imagination,
then in steam,
we drink from a silver chalice,
asking Apollo for inspiration.

Dear Real Toads, and others:
DreamWidth has made it impossible to comment on my posts, unless you join DW, so I understand how frustrating it is for you to not be able to join the fun here. Nevertheless, when I have a moment, I am reading your posts.
Apologies that this poem is so late to the party. The lead-up to my book launch is crazy, and my time is being stolen by book gypsies, family gypsies, and short story gypsies.

NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 10

In long ago rooms,
in a suburb now crowded,
I'm told there are still echoes -
my voice singing Johnny Cash songs.
I withdrew my energy from that house,
but I go there in dreams.
Today, it's still an area
for young families,
and there's mention of a woman's voice
who sometimes sings,
and once in a while,
weeps so sadly
that even a Johnny Cash heartbreak song
would hang its head.
In long ago rooms,
I left a younger self
to continue a life
that no longer fitted.
In long ago rooms,
in dreams, I still walk the floor,
wondering how to dig myself out.


Dear Real Toads and Others:
DreamWidth makes it difficult to comment on my poems if you are not a DW member. Apologies. I am, when I can, reading your poems, even if I'm not commenting. Boy, launching a book is time-consuming!
More apologies for these poems being so late to the party. Between book, NDIS, and the short story course I'm doing, plus family, and all that jazz, well...WARGH!!!