Stars in my hair

How do you interpret this piece? Share in the comments and see my view at the end of the post.

#FromOneLine #TopTweetTuesday
When the sky stopped moving
The stars drizzled down
I captured them like a child
In cupped palms, while
Some entangled in my hair
I tied a few with a bonny bow
In a hanky with crochet-edges
Then, I lay amongst the brilliance
Waiting for the sun to descend

I see this as an imagist poem with a life metaphor. When time is ready to halt, we can only stand by and gather memories and memoirs. We, then, patiently wait for the last sunset.

Inner child

Imagist poetry for #TopTweetTuesday

A lonely childhood
Peering outside
Tracing frost fairies
On a chilly windowpane
Whispering a wish
For tender icicle streaks
To fly far far away!
Her dreams grow wings
Like gossamer butterflies
When she touches them
Powdery dust crumbles
In tiny, empty hands
Flickering like stars
That drive her destiny

I received some lovely feedback on this piece today.

Make a wish

Prompt #DarkLines #MakeAWish

When an exhausted orb self-immolates
Tumbles towards a pale blue dot
Tired lovers, puppets of destiny
Make a wish upon the falling spark
In dying moments, may the constellations
Burn out their hapless horoscopes,
And rewrite fates of the star-crossed

Matters of the heart

Sequined dreams
In the sky
As I stitch every teardrop
Into the firmament
For you to see when
You gaze at the moon
In my memory

It was a strong heart
But feather-light it floated
Buoyed by dreams, hopes
Reaching the sky so blue;
Tie it firmly with icy strings
Till the cold permeates
Freezes that tender love
For warm and flush
It tends to bleed red
Staining all the world!

What colors do you see,
In this unfinished portrait?
It waits for blue
From the waves
To fill vacant eyes
A contrary wind
Reversed ocean
To bring you back

Horoscope

Horoscope

A thousand miles away
Stars in a distant array
Speak to me of destinies
That lend to life it’s mystery
In luminous, fiery novas
In sparkly, fallen crystals
In comets singed to ashes
The fate lines in our palms
Etched in celestial splashes

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