Mini lily pads make way for his playful swim 

He looks both ways then dips under again

 

Tan and green reeds sway 

The way fans watch a foul-shot play

 

Tiny bubbles hint at his webbed-feet wake

Pulling fast through the placid lake

 

His guard hairs soaked but sealed and sleek  

Keeping him warm even in winter’s peak

 

He surfaces again with a swish

Thri...

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“Repeat the sounding joy” times three

Command or suggestion?

 

Crushed red and white bits top whipped cream

Cocoa warms my hand

 

If only one could “Repeat the sounding joy”

On demand

 

The melody offers sound reason 

As they say, “Tis the season!”

 

But all I can do is. Sit. Sip.

And hope it comes more naturally

 

 

© Candice Reineke 2021

 

...

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Majestic vapors race across miles high

Celestial scents turn curious noses to the sky

Indigos and greys overtake shades of white

Subtle rumbles reach drums as whispers hide

Stars on blue whip and whirl into stripes 

Patio umbrellas bend and brace for flight 

 

An ominous scene is brewing for us tonight

Yet it calms our souls as if to say, “All is right.”

 

© Cand...

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Here we are – earlobes and funny bones. Canvas chucks crunch against butterscotch and crimson tones. Ravine weaves beneath a cedar-scented boardwalk. Breeze moves leaves like feathers. Sweetgum surrenders one tumbling down from jittery branches to toes. Tufted titmouse tells us the forest is hers. Lilypad sheen invites us to breathe. To dream. To be.

Here we are – earlobes and funny bones.

...

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When you stay up past a Fall midnight  

 

When you try to be a hero for your hot spouse 

 

When the library stays open ‘til your last pages

 

When your breath puffs up a show in the air

 

When your curiosity presses the fogged window

 

When you race to stop the dripping cone

 

 

© Candice Reineke 2021

 

 

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Incessant tap tap tap

of dissatisfaction 

 

Monotony of breathing

the stale air of routine

 

Masked cringe behind a grin

while pretending

 

Bright glimmer of knowing

soon you'll be free 

 

 

© Candice Reineke 2021

 

 

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Highlands and Speyside 

whisper my name

 

Single malt barleys

they’re not all the same

 

Some speak smooth vanilla

rich fruits, caramel and cream

 

Others boast a dry bite

smoky and bitter with peat

 

Delicately matured

in oak casks of all kinds

 

Diverse finishes of bourbon 

sherry, ports and rare finds

 

The greater the age

the steepe...

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a sour sigh held in

by the wisdom of silence

offers a yet-to-come glimpse

of rage reverberating against

the wheel you manically steer

down the retched road of hubris

 

© Candice Reineke 2021

 

 

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Thursday morning dew

damp on his shoes

 

Cotton socks graze past grass tips

Leather holster holds to his hips

 

Squinting eyes tell passersby

he might’ve been up all night

 

Clumps of keys cling clang

against his hand and chain

 

Sacred badge on uniform sleeves

Shorts hit just above his knees

 

A subtle limp hints he might be spent

but nary a sign ...

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silver

slivers

of

effervescent 

shapes

slide

in

and

out

onto

metal

matter 

making

reflective

declarations 

some 

seen 

and

unseen

 

bursts 

of 

brilliance

dance

between 

branches

onto

babbling 

brooks

making

rocks’

starry

nooks

flash

for

your

cool

blue

iris

 

warm

glow

of...

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gravity

takes 

you

back

to 

 

the

place

that

made

you

 

fly

the

first

time

you 

 

took

a

risk

to

be

 

any

thing

other

than

what

 

they

wanted

you

to

be

 

 

© Candice Reineke 2021

 

 

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Edgar Allen Poe

The Raven, of course, rolls his eyes impatiently

You feel goosebumps crawling up your sleeves 

A haunting so familiar you grin

 

W. B. Yeats

Jon boat tosses t’n’fro the salty zeal of sea

His words slap aboard you drink’m in w’ease

A thirst for fresh stories unquenchable 

 

Virginia Woolf

Woman blazes past her time and kitchen sink 

You crave...

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William Shakespeare 

Cold theater braces for a cliche thespian 

Yet his every word is soft cotton on your skin 

A bouquet of passion, puckishness and verse

 

Sylvia Plath

Bell jar sticky with fingerprints and sand

A whipping wind tips over your afternoon plans 

Her manic notes on napkins now prolific works

 

Maya Angelou

Thunderous megaphone silences the crowd

...

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Emily Dickinson 

Dried roses and loneliness 

Damp musk, juniper gin

A sweet secret kept well

 

E. E. Cummings

Modern buildings made of his words 

Falling oak leaf, smoker’s cough

A feeling of getting away with murder

 

Henry David Thoreau 

Wading boot lifting from the muck

Abandoned shed, rotten wood chopped

A longing for sapiosexual chemistry 

 

A...

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Blank look

Dead eyes

Not impressed nor surprised

 

Flamboyant flare reveals a double rainbow

Spotted gazelle prances on a dewy field 

Zero fucks is what they give it, still

 

Dear Poet

Not everybody likes poetry

It’s a matter of their wiring

 

You’re okay

This truth is best to have been found 

Earth still spins us round and round 

 

 

© Candi...

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Wooden pillars squeak in the afternoon wind

Waters slap against the shore

Not angrily but without end

 

Bleached bright pier reflects the sun

Man holds his pole on a “No Fishing” sign

Like a catch would have been fun

 

The sky so tantalizing blue

It fools you into thinking

The water is too

 

The sun also plays games with your mind

Shimmering off the murk...

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Feel my cool breath

on your skin

I saw you were dewy

and needed it

Did you catch my little rustle of the leaves? 

 

Stroll under those

old oaks and notice  

I make sounds

just like the ocean

Shhhhhhhhhh, can you hear my artistry?

 

My gentle breeze flirts

with your curls

Yet I destroy whole cities

with my whirls

Can’t you see how soft and strooo...

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small curls so soft

fall in your eyes

 

sleepiest gaze

wide by surprise

 

tiny fingers

stretch out to me

 

short pudgy legs

kick aimlessly

 

the world is yours

grin-slobber line

 

should your heart break 

I’ll give you mine 

 

 

© Candice Reineke 2021

 

 

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earsplitting pops and crackles reverberate off the river into our home

our cats dash under beds taking shelter amid the war zone 

I calmly explain it’s just the 2021 New Year’s fireworks fun

soon the explosive noises and jubilant celebrations will all be done

just as my words become truth your snore breaks into the night and shakes the earth beneath my sleep-deprived bum

our cats ...

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