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Sunday night whirl

Lovely Sunday Whirl words.

When I read them, I got a glimpse of falling stars and so went with the feeling.

A little fantasy/nonsense/whimsy then.

stars

chance, nest, secret, clever, swept, ripe,
blinked, stars, basket, flesh, saw, hand

We grab blankets to steel ourselves against the icy bite of the night air.
We tiptoe across the lawn to sit on the swinging chair under the trees as stars fall down like ripe plums around us.
We pluck them from their grassy nest to cart them home when we have found our fill.

I lay them out across my open hand to feel their weight before I place each one in our basket, then bend to gently sweep another free; for pull too hard and break their backs.
I hold each of the stars up in the glare of the moon hoping she’ll tell me which one holds a secret, or at least a clever clue, in the chance hint of moon beams, the magical, deceitful light.

You fear the ancient superstitions.
You say we shouldn’t let fallen stars see the moon or they will forever long to join her floating far above, forever calling, forever whispering her name in your ear.
You don’t realise that lying there in my hand they can’t call the moon, only feel her aching pull.

Each time I hold a star in my hand I long to see its light, feel its weight, let it warm my flesh.
But you are right. Each star that saw the moon blinked forever out of reach.
And the moon is distant, smiling, lost in her own perfect world, impervious to our anguish, calling us to where she knows we can never go.

My hands are cold. Cherry burning, huckleberry bright and cold.

Comments: 28

  • October 6, 2013
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    That is awesome! I love the idea too. Are they accepting new writers to the challenge? I’d love to give it a try. I’m so glad you posted.

    Missy Bell

  • October 6, 2013
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    Nice–I like this one very much. (And thanks for sharing the Sunday Whirl site, I didn’t know about that site.)

  • October 6, 2013
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    Hi Veronica,

    Nice poem! Where can I find out more about the challenge?

    Kindly,
    Sonja

  • October 6, 2013
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    Nice work, keep reaching for the stars. xx Nikki@Wonderfully Women

  • October 6, 2013
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    This is a very cool site. I will look at it later tonight. Thank you so much for sharing. πŸ™‚

  • October 6, 2013
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    This is so gorgeous, Veronica.
    I’m especially drawn to:
    “as stars fall down like ripe plums around us.”

    And the moon’s pull of course. And always.
    Sigh. Lovely.

  • October 6, 2013
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    The moon does tend to steal stars specially when at its full then so many stars are overwhelmed and hidden by her proud glare.

  • October 7, 2013
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    This sounds like a great idea!

  • October 7, 2013
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    oh lovely … i saw stars like that in a shop in santa fe …

  • October 7, 2013
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    a delightful fanciful tale
    too catch a fallen star and hear it / feel it
    great work

  • October 7, 2013
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  • October 7, 2013
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    What a delightful idea of gathering stars!

  • October 8, 2013
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    I was with you when you went out there and gathered stars. Lovely. And the superstitions, they do linger. There is something mystical about her powers, her pull.

  • hypercryptical

    October 9, 2013
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    Oh that aching pull of the moon – let the stars free.
    Anna :o]

  • October 11, 2013
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    Each star that saw the moon blinked forever out of reach.
    And the moon is distant, smiling, lost in her own perfect world, impervious to our anguish, calling us to where she knows we can never go.

    So wonderful that you write about the heft of a star, Veronica.

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