Wednesday, April 27, 2016

war for me

my brokenness has borne
the fruit
of a thousand sorrows

piece by piece by piece
piercing by piercing by piercing
arrows of unlove
to become

what can only be
by the man of sorrows

acquainted with grief
my grief

in love’s long-suffering war

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

“Love is a long-suffering war.” –Janet Martin, poet extraordinaire

Note:  over at dVerse the prompt is to write a secret admirer poem and since my poem is a bit similar to the guidelines of the prompt offered I wanted to make mention of it--though I didn’t write it in response.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Butterfly, Rest

We captured blown kisses
left like a note
on the kitchen table

I’ll be back soon--
just went to the grocery
to pick up a few things.

If we only knew

that last sprinkling,
last dot under the heart
she drew

on the page
was her final

now folded.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

for edr and kjt

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Sevenling (In that Dream)

image source

In that dream, I had all day and more
in the lavender field, sunlight speckling
my arms, my legs, the straw hat sheltering my face.

It was one I'd never worn before,
but you were there, sunny, honeyed
and yellowing all my purple darkness,

as it always should have been.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

This was written for De's dVerse Meeting the Bar: the Sevenling. I was unable to post it in time so I'll be linking it to dVerse OLN.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Calling the Game

Like Pudge.
Like Bench.

Like Yogi.

Opening Day
on the glistening green


with dirt under his nails

he scoops
the ball
from his mitt,

tosses back to the ace,

gives signal,

for the curve

of his smile,
and spits

o - u - t.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

Opening Day 2016. Go M's!
photo © 2016 Jennifer Wagner

A Quadrille poem for dVerse. Exactly 44 words (title excluded), including the word “shimmer” (or variant as I've used here).

Friday, April 1, 2016

Like Spent Cherry Blossoms

Milling about
the door,

while the garden lights
were swaying

and the moon was high,

this poem
found itself


sweet spices
on rainpetal skin

from spring's unfurling trees.

And what was I to do, little poem?

Of course, I swept you in.

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

Happy National Poetry Month! :-)

dVerse OLN