Stung

OLYMPUS E-520 DIGITAL CAMERA- Photo and Poem by Joni Caggiano on May 22, 2020

Magic wings of evening time, lost, a button dropped
A silk tie lies upon the clock that abruptly stopped
Frozen bitter is my stare; I ought not have tarried there
It was I who flew into our nest of love, to be fair
Like a red ant your painful sting and blistering mark
Our moon blinked and sadly left me in the dark

 

24 thoughts on “Stung

  1. My dearest honeybun
    I have tears in my eyes ….

    1. Your poem is absolutely divine. I should say beyond divine
    “It was I who flew into our nest of love, to be fair
    Like a red ant your painful sting and blistering mark
    Our moon blinked and sadly left me in the dark”

    I flew in a nest of love and … I was left in the dark. Wow. the impact of this imagery is unbelievable. Joni, you have this capacity to transform words into images and images into words, my dear. You are fantastic. I love your poems. Your talent shines and inspires.

    2. Thank you. I am humbled by the photo you used. Honeybun, I have no words to express my gratitude for everything you’ve done for me. I am speechless…

    Wishing you the loveliest and the most blessed weekend ever. May love and may the muse be with you.
    Love you Joni. I’ll get back to you soon.
    xoxoxo
    Gabriela (button)

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Oh sweet beautiful Button thank you for all your kind words. They mean so much I am always so humbled. Well that is where your book stays on the night stand so it is easily accessible. Wishing you a splendid weekend as well dear Button. Love and many hugs dearest friend. Love you honeybun. 🌺🌸❤️😘💕

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Finding words like that for places like that… places that don’t show up on any map…
    It means something, that you fund words there –
    and helps others to mean something too.

    – John (Woodsy)

    Sometimes,
    I find myself
    with just an empty bag,

    a cold thing
    that seems always to be frightened in some way

    and
    a world of hurt,
    daring me not to be defeated

    when there is nothing but meanness in its victory.

    Sometimes,
    I’m just looking for a brand of hug they don’t make anymore

    and a small warm cup of forgiveness
    for trying to rebuild myself in your leftovers.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. “Sometimes,
      I’m just looking for a brand of hug they don’t make anymore

      and a small warm cup of forgiveness
      for trying to rebuild myself in your leftovers.” Woodsy you’re comment is a beautiful poem. Your words so lovely. Thank you for writing something so gorgeous and for reading. “Trying to rebuild myself in your leftovers” what a amazing description of love. Love and hugs to you and thank you again my new friend. Love 💕 Joni

      Liked by 2 people

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