Ripples in the Sand

tsa-anthology-2016

a slink of silk
a flicker of flame
dark windows
guard our secrets
on the orient express
 
                    Julie Thorndyke
 

not Manet’s
girl at the bar …
my reflection
absorbed in private follies
sips peppermint tea

                    Julie Thorndyke

Thank you Jenny Ward Angyal and Susan Constable for including these poems in the
TSA Members’ Anthology 2016  Ripples in the Sand. And what a lovely cover image by Carole MacRury!

A Currency Lass

uni
This autumn
I collect currency—
in the shadow of gothic arches,
pile up towers of silver and gold.

I hoard them in the dash
or toss them into pouches;

two gold, one silver
for the tollway,
three smaller gold
for the parking metre.

As bank notes enter
my purse, I spin them into coin—riches
for a counterfeit poverty.

On the library steps
I search my book-laden bag
. . . more change for cappuccino.

The weight of the NAMES,
gilt-lettered on leather spines,
labelled on these locked office doors.

I clutch my empty purse,
my blank-lined page.

I still need two gold coins
and a silver for the trip home.

  Julie Thorndyke

Pool Party

dog

My dog jumped in
with a cheeky grin,
my duck flapped his wing
and began to sing.

My hen scratched the edge
paddling on the ledge,
my frog leapt with vim
and began to swim.

My cow with panache
made a fearful splash!

My horse galloped in
hoping for a win.

My cat gave a yowl
hiding in a towel:

so I found him a boat,
and a coat that will float
and a sea-going hat—
for an Admiral Cat.

Julie Thorndyke

Gemstones

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000039_00058]

So happy to be one of the poets Anne Benjamin invited to write with her in this new collaborative tanka project, along with Jan Foster, Claire Everett, Marilyn Humbert, Patrica Prime, Luminita Suse and Carmel Summers. The mystical cover image is by Luminta Suse.

one candle lit
to warm my small world
… in each corner
benign shadows soften
the edges of heartbreak

                       © Julie Thorndyke           Gemstones  p.49

Gemstones: collaborative tanka by Anne Benjamin and friends.
Skylark Publishing, 2016.
ISBN-13: 978-1530574889
Available via Amazon

 

 

Hands

hands

My father’s hands were strong and silent
capable, restless, methodical, worn.
Missing the tip of a digit or two;
able to mend shoes, carve the weekend roast,
mow lawns, grow vegetables
give out hymn books, shake hands after church,
make piles of the collection-plate coins
lay carpet, fix the car, drive to music lessons
make a new key to wind up my toy train.

His hands could claim me if the surf were too wild;
were strong to carry this broken-legged child
put metho on mozzie bites, dab soap on my nose
clap hands for the babies, and cheer when they smiled.

In this noisy shouting world with strident voices cluttered
hear the quiet words of love my father’s hands have uttered.

© Julie Thorndyke