Posted in Magic 9

Lovers in Treble

A graceful dance across the floor
is resonating in our arms.
The music begs us ask for more
when swelling notes announce the end.
So we compose another score
and base its movements on our own.
The harmonies we’re looking for
are melodies of subtle charms,
their lyrics sung by our rapport.

© Susan Schoeffield

Posted in Magic 9

Characters Flawed

A world apart from someone’s pain,
we hide behind the walls we’ve built
and hope the heartache we sustain
won’t obfuscate our righteous path.
We speak of otherworldly gain
yet put no actions with those words.
Although the piety we feign
protects us from a rising guilt,
our scorn for humankind is plain.

© Susan Schoeffield

Posted in Magic 9

Elections

Humdrum buzz, unceasing prattle
stifles any cognizance.
Gathering like barnyard cattle
heading to the slaughterhouse,
we appear as mindless chattel.
Suddenly, as danger speaks,
hearts embrace the coming battle.
Far removed from somnolence,
we leave one less cage to rattle.

© Susan Schoeffield

Posted in Quatrain

A Patchwork Orange

You see them in an apricot.
They glow on tangerines.
These colors of the summer sun
are warming and serene.

The flavor of a cantaloupe
and sweetness in a peach
have juices flowing down the chin
beyond a short tongue’s reach.

A tasty piece of salmon grilled
with carrots on the side
served up on lovely coral plates
give tummies quite a ride.

While pondering this poem prompt,
these thoughts came into view.
Be happy you don’t have my mind.
So orange you glad you’re you?

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the 2/11/15 prompt at Poetic Asides to write a “patchwork” poem. It may not be great poetry, but at least it’s not about love or winter!

Posted in Internal Rhyme

Scorched Torch

It started out with a spark and a shout.
There wasn’t a doubt this love was true
but no type of glue could keep you in place.
Off you would race to whomever you found
not willingly bound to promises made.
Our union decayed because of your ways
and the flames in our blaze quickly fizzled,
drizzled with your self-serving arrogance.
You removed any semblance of respect
and I detect you’ll always be the same.
Love isn’t a game, it’s a lesson learned.
When you play with fire, you might get burned.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the 2/4/15 prompt at Poetic Asides to write a “disappointment” poem. Fortunately, I haven’t felt this way in a long time.

Posted in Duo-rhyme

Galactic Free Fall

What happens when two stars collide
while cruising on a midnight ride?
Do lawyers dash upon the scene
expecting settlements to glean
a boatload of celestial green?
But should it be two stars careen,
those lawyers need not intervene
to file a lawsuit or a lien.
For shooting stars are short on pride
and take each accident in stride.

© Susan Schoeffield

Another poem written for the 1/28/15 prompt at Poetic Asides to write a “free” poem.

Posted in Free Verse

Word Search

I’m free falling
down a thesaurus chasm
trying to grasp a word here and there
to enhance what I want to write
when defining my thoughts.
Sometimes,
they’re too slippery to grab
and I tumble deeper into the abyss
until, when least expected,
the right ones come along
to break my fall.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the 1/28/15 prompt at Poetic Asides to write a “free” poem.

Posted in Quatrain

State of Confusion

I find them all confusing.
Are stories on the news
supposed to be amusing
or blatant subterfuge?

Who has the right intention
when keeping us informed?
Does careless circumvention
enhance how they perform?

Their ratings might be rising
when serving up their truth.
Instead of compromising,
I’ll take mine with vermouth.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the 1/21/15 prompt at Poetic Asides to write a “State Of (blank)” poem.