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# / Author
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CCCLI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Night tide
laps the shore; the moon
peeps into our tent.
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CCCLII
Hugh Bygott
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The moon and silence —
how soon her coyness departs
when passion consumes.
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CCCLIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Forsythia's blooming —
even a grumpy husband
gasps, "Oh!"
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Forsythia is both the common name and botanical name of a plant genus belonging to the Oleaceae (Olive family).
...like this one Zhanna! Made me smile. --wyethia |
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CCCLIV
Michele Harvey
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thirty years....
sweethearts "forever"
in cement
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| Perhaps, "the sweethearts' "forever"? Zhanna |
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CCCLV
Vaughn Seward
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I press my lips
on your delicate hand...
"Marry me?"
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CCCLVI
Michele Harvey
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young love
on the grey skin
of a winter beech
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CCCLVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Big blizzard —
we romance each other
by the firelight.
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CCCLVIII
Hugh Bygott
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White river ice —
the deep waters flow unchang'd...
as love in silence.
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CCCLIX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Merrily she kicks
the summer sea at him —
their loud laughter...
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CCCLX
Vaughn Seward
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I lick a stamp
for the letter to her...
all-day drizzle.
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Although a day of drizzle can seem dreary and dismal, for me it actually generates a comforting, cozy feeling. Writing a letter to a loved one on such a day can be a bittersweet experience.
Sure. :)
Zhanna |
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CCCLXI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Spring vogue... To put
the thread end into the needle hole,
she first licks it.
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CCCLXII
Michele Harvey
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first love...
gently warmed
apple buds
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CCCLXIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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The tight bud
loosens its petals —
its alluring scent...
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CCCLXIV
Michele Harvey
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bursting with color
newly filled window boxes —
first crush
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CCCLXV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Virtual spring affair —
his voice on the phone,
just as I imagined it.
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CCCLXVI
Vaughn Seward
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Avocado maki...
her chopsticks lift
one of mine.
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CCCLXVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Spring dusk —
our hand-holding leads to a hug...
to a kiss...
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CCCLXVIII
Vaughn Seward
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He offers a girl
his seat on the bus...
missed stop
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| Vaughn--beautiful bus poem! -Wyethia |
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CCCLXIX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Two human shadows
slip into the moonlit lake...
merge...
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CCCLXX
Michele Harvey
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my sighs...
balanced against his chest
a baseball bat
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CCCLXXI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Be my small sparrow,
I'll be your nest
in a budding orchard.
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CCCLXXII
Robert D. Wilson
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early morning . . .
the whisper inside
of a tulip
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CCCLXXIII
Dana-Maria Onica
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dewy orchid...
in the rhythm of his breath,
my whispers
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| Thank you for the inspiration, Robert :) |
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CCCLXXIV
Michele Harvey
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bleeding heart
in the summer garden
no respite
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CCCLXXV
Zhanna P. Rader
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"I like small sparrows,"
I say; the lovers exchange
their secretive smiles.
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CCCLXXVI
Billie Dee
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summer romance
the teenaged laundress
mating socks
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CCCLXXVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Summer's end —
their romance revealed only
to black-eyed susans...
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CCLXXVIII
Billie Dee
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a love sonnet
written on a grain of rice —
this heart filled with spring
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CCCLXXIX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Cherry blossoms —
the flexing of your biceps
as you row the boat...
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| ...nice one Zhanna! - Billie |
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CCCLXXX
Michele Harvey
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soft bed
woven into memory
autumn grass
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| Inspired, Zhanna & Billie. Cheers! -Michele |
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CCCLXXXI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Prairie grass
under the lovers' backs,
gleaming stars above.
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CCCLXXXII
Billie Dee
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greensleeves —
even the meadows
bring us love
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CCCLXXXIII
Michele Harvey
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dancing
where the sun wasn't
his touch
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CCCLXXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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She drift to sleep
with thoughts of love —
rainy days...
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CCCLXXXV
Robert D. Wilson
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first rain . . .
the scent of fresh
picked melons
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CCCLXXXVI
Billie Dee
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scent of summer —
a field of musk melons
ripening
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CCCLXXXVII
Michele Harvey
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woven together
under summer stars
palms meet
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CCCLXXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Candlelight dinner —
he puts a piece of melon
to her mouth.
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CCCLXXXIX
Michele Harvey
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first time
his name whispered
in seashells
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CCCXC
Zhanna P. Rader
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A date in a grove —
their kiss is twelve
"coo-coo!" long.
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CCCXCI
Billie Dee
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the seeds we cast —
a lovers' meadow
blooming
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CCCXCII
Zhanna P. Rader
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An island resort —
the waves caressing the beach
reach for her legs.
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CCCXCIII
Hugh Bygott
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Sighs of Zephyrus —
In and out of decision,
at last she yields.
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| With acknowledgement to Chaucer. |
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CCCXCIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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That innocent time
when we picked dandelions
for each other...
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CCCXCV
Hugh Bygott
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Her moist red lips,
tender as the rose, and yet ...
unloving prove my pain.
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CCCXCVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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She shares with him
her Dulse seaweed — the tint
and the taste of her lips...
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| Dulse is a red seaweed that grows in the North Atlantic and Northwest Pacific. The seaweed grows attached to rocks in the inter-tidal zone, where the water is cold, the current is swift, and the ocean bottom is clean. Dulse grows so quickly in the summer that it can be picked every two weeks. It is used as a food and as a medicine. Dulse is eaten as a tasty snack in Nova Scotia and elsewhere. It can be eaten sun-dried, fried, baked with cheese, or eaten fresh off the rocks. Dulse can also be used as a condiment or sprinkled on salads and soups. It is cultivated for such use in Nova Scotia and sold in the produce section of grocery stores under the name 'Sea Parsley'. |
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CCCXCVII
Michele Harvey
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at last,
caught in the trees
their laughter
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CCCXCVIII
Hugh Bygott
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Fine, this blossom'd day —
until the dart of Eros
quivers in my heart.
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CCCXCIX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Our secret date —
the wind strips the cherry
of its blossoms.
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CD
Hugh Bygott
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Her split-skirt unconceals
the gifts of Aphrodite . . .
Spring desire at dusk.
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| So we have reached the magical 400 and a world record. HB |
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