Love – Page 6 – One Woman's Quest

The Cook

She’s in the kitchen
cleaning, prepping
sweetness, wishes

to nurture childlike
longings – sugar laden
gifts, honeyed chops

hooks her men with
culinary preciseness –
as legend prescribes

wants a strong, reliable
type to stir her ovaries
keep her dishing up love

Disappointment, like raw egg
drips off china plates –
shame of misadventures
she cannot scrub away

only serves tea now –
the smell of liquor
mingled with cigarettes
in lecherous calloused
hands turns her stomach

avoids the coffee maker
in the same way, despises
the way the bitter brew
makes her head spin –
wits need to be in order

has settled now as hostess
caters to near strangers
whose attention, riveted
by television screens, are

lulled by the rhythmic
sounds of her sanitizing
while stew simmers in pot,
dreams of romance shelved.

(Originally titled “Hatched”, this poem first appeared here in July, 2017. I am submitting an edited version for Reena’s Xploration challenge: Stranger in a strange land. Image my own)

Colouring You Purple

I am colouring you purple
for the sacredness of your being
for the majesty of your soul

I am colouring you purple
for the joy that you spread
for the laughter we share

I am colouring you purple
for purple best expresses
the depth of my love.

(For my granddaughters. Art my own.
Colouring you Purple previously appeared
on onewomansquest. com)

First Kiss

Dock sitting
past midnight
parental drone
humming in distance

Two silhouettes
haloed in moonlight
I lean in, heart pounding
your lips brush my forehead

Nothing more…
Nevermind! I blurt
scrambling to leave
rejection a soul tattoo

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own. Care to join me and write about your first kiss?
Drop me a link so I don’t miss it.)

On Divinity

Righteousness
speaks not of
Divine intent

Indigenous suffer
ungodly loss from
Christian hands

A Muslim community
mourns the brutality
of sanctimonious wrath

Hate is the invention
of mortal minds –

Divine love is a river
that flows for all.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)

Pity Not The Scars

Abandoned, this heart –
old walls scarred but solid

Lest you look upon me with pity,
remember – roses grow here

planted at the peak of love’s hold
vibrant despite the ensuing thorns.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own.)

Best Listener

Art of listening, best taught
by the family pooch –
ears attuned to nuances
carefully weeding through
human gibberish
for words that resonate –
treat, dinner, walk, cuddles…

Eyes inviting compassion
conveying depth beyond understanding
and when tone turns impatient
little paws retreat, as if words are blows

If only I could learn to listen
hear the workings of your mind
inquisitive, compelling – imagine
what I might learn….

(Best Listener first appeared here, August 2020. Image my own)

Purging Betrayal

Burn the love letters
watch as each quaint lie curls
sham interrupted –
betrayal’s intricacy
scatters amongst the embers.

(Image my own)

Fanciful

Petals:
I’ve counted them
pressed them
preserved them

Drops
of sentiment
prescient
pretenders

Trivial
pursuits of passion
gaming for love
childish ploys

Petals
fickle as the seasons
elusive as joy
too soon expended.

(For Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: petals. Image my own.)

Tumbleweed

Rings me every time
he’s in town –
Tumbleweed, I call him –
a man I love to hate

He tints my normalcy
with neon rushes,
flames of screaming lust –

I’m better of without him
wish he’d lose my number…
well…maybe after next time.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own. Piece is purely fiction, I promise)

Youth Dreams

Beneath the willow
a young woman dreams
Harlequin romance
in hand – portrait of
stormy-eyed perfection

Innocence luxuriates
in spicy dreams, awaits
love’s sweeping encounter –
hormones not yet bearing
the bruises of disappointment.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)