My friends at TweetSpeak Poetry scheduled a Twitter Poetry Party this part Saturday evening, and I was delighted to be able join the fun. While Glynn Young is the resident assembler of responses to the prompts, all from Homer's The Odyssey (800 B.C.E.), I've used my tweets from my still available live stream, and several borrowed words or lines, to create the tiny, entirely new poems that follow.
Make mischief with another
story. Yours is the poet's oath.
Your voice sings me rivers
deep. Make of me your narrow
entrance that I, on this cold shore,
might be your sea in snow light.
Make my veil your sash of gold,
its thousand threads a braid
of promises to weave each night.
Divine the brightest sign
to see. Dragonflies have skated
the Milky Way, opening
your door to me.
Omens live on your honeyed lips,
in eyes dark as poplar.
I remember dwelling not
in the arc of your arms,
plans gone begging,
my neck scarlet with shame.
Jewels retouched by one not I
spell a morning of tears.
To you I tender violets,
a cup of ruby nectar, hair
smelling of sweet cinnamon,
lashes silvered so near the moon.
(My thanks to @tspoetry @llbarkat @SoniaJoie @lauralynnn_brown @pathoftreasure @lwlinquist @lanearnold @SandraHeskaKing and any others I've missed who contributed to the evening.)