Shadow of Doubt

Sun brushes the horizon with a kiss

and bids adieu to daylight with a promise           

that moon will share the secrets of the night.

I feel your breath upon me in the night,

entwined with you, upon my neck a kiss--

and through your lips the whisper of a promise…

Morning dawns, a new day full of promise

as pledges are remembered from the night;

your love revealed, then sealed with passion's kiss--

Did your kiss lie, will promise die with night?

©  Ginny Brannan August 2012

First attempt at a tritina.  The tritina is the little sister of the sestina – a variation made up of three tercets and a one-line envoy. In other words, it’s composed of ten lines, starting with three stanzas of three lines each, and then a single line to conclude the poem. The line-ending words of the tritina follow a pattern similar to that of the sestina, appearing thus: ABC, CAB, BCA with the envoy as ABC. 

Shared at d'Verse Poets Pub Form For All: On Tritinas
***Linking up to d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #60. 

On the Cusp

Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth

The shadows wane against the wall

as summer burns and slowly turns,

ebbing quietly to fall.

The trees take on a different hue,

blazing bright in fading light…

A hundred thousand words imbue--

yet insufficiently recite,

nor validate, substantiate

these visions captured in our sight

Ambivalent, the songbirds sing --

their hearts rejoice with tempered voice

while dormant winter waits in wing.

© Ginny Brannan   August 2012

Written for The Mag #132
Image provided by Tess Kincaid. She provides the image, and we, the story!!

Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #59

Walking the Line

Now comes the time of tribulation,

the moon has reached a brand new phase

on this path to my salvation.

With quickening decelleration

this evilness invades my days...

now comes the time of tribulation.

I fought my way through radiation

and cocktails leaving chemical haze

on this path to my salvation.

Dealing with the desecration,

I walk blindly through this maze;

now comes the time of tribulation.

Built and fostered strong foundation

even now I sing His praise;

on this path to my salvation.

But please explain justification

as shell dissolves, disease betrays?

Now comes the time of tribulation

on this path to my salvation.

©  Ginny Brannan August 2012

Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night Week  #58

For my dear sister-in-law, fighting the good fight...

Speculation

Image by Francesca Woodman

From whence she came we do not know--

all torn and tattered from her plight

and shiv’ring hard against the night,

found on the beach in dawn’s first glow.

This sad-sweet girl could only speak

in guttural sounds amix with sighs.

Was she mute or traumatized;

wet seaweed clinging to her cheek?

The speculation was intense

awaiting her recovery,

but fragile life was not to be;

she’ll never utter her defense.

Perhaps a mermaid washed ashore

found grasping conch shell in her hand

near-naked body in the sand …
the tabloids just reported “whore.”

© Ginny Brannan August 2012

Image provided by Tess Kincaid, she provides the image, we provide the story!

Written for The Mag (Magpie Tales) #130. 
***********************************************************************

Loosely based on the victims of the Long Island Serial Killer, on whom I’ve recently seen a couple of television news documentaries.

Heat Wave

Photo by C. Parant, used with permission

In middle of fourth

or fifth heat wave,

<I’ve lost count>

feels like one long one

                  never-ending…

Air hangs heavy,

a lone cicada sings;

nothing else moves,

even crickets are silent.

Smallest exertion prompts

rivulets of perspiration,

trickling down temples,

nape, small of back.

With no announcement,

shower flashes through.

Seeking nearest shelter,

we watch as needed rain

pummels against windshield.

For a brief moment

we believe reprieve

                  has arrived…

…until sun returns,  

steam rises from pavement,  

and we find ourselves right

back to where we started
                  ... once again.

© Ginny Brannan August 2012

Written for d'Verse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar: Impressionistic Writing.

*Special thanks to Charlie Parant for permitting me to use his photo image: 

"Girl waiting out thunderstorm at a farm stand, taken through the rainy windshield #2"   

To see this and many more amazing images, check out Charlie's blog at: 

 http://appetiteforphotos.blogspot.com/

My New England

Previously written poem, reformatted and superimposed on photograph. 

 Special thanks to Charlie Parant for use of this image of a dirt road taken in North Danville, VT. 

For more  New England imagery, please check out Charlie's photography blog at: http://appetiteforphotos.blogspot.com/

**Inspired by Image below from The Mag:

Chilmark Hay, 1951 by Thomas Hart Benton

Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #52
Written for and sharing at The Mag #125. 

Wherever path may lead...

Image taken by author near Londonderry, VT July 31 2012

Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night, Week #56

Drink Up!

 Ladies & gents, a toast....

Excerpt from image by John Singer Sargent

I raise this glass to all who’ve gone,

and love that cannot be…

but I am strong, I’ve carried on,

I raise this glass--to me!!

©  Ginny Brannan August 2012

Written for and inspired by the image posted at The Mag #129! Image provided by Tess Kincaid.