Last Leaf

Here’s to the enduring leaf,
the last to fall,
marking the tail winds
of the fall,
the final drop
as autumn leaves
one more warm breath
before its silent collapse—
a golden kiss on the sod
—as a way to welcome
the anticipated arrival,
the severe frosty bite
from the gelid tears
of a frigid winter’s
relentless
blow.

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd #poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

see me at The Prose

Time and Time again…

it’s that particular time
in the morning
when the first sounds are heard
other than heartbeat

         cock-a-doodle-doos
alarm bells
train horns
         chirps
         honks
         beeps
foot shuffles
switch clicks

    moonglow fades
last melody of the night ends
dreams bottled
clarity settles

    darkness parts
midway, a line starts
light paints a spectrum
everything comes alive
night retires

horizons ascending
tides lowering
sands start warming
cool breezes moving
clouds parting
fogs lifting

dewdrops leave the grass
lighter blades at last
cleaner greens
sun ray-showers begin

bluer skies
open eyes
senses high
spirits fly

     it’s a lot like that
I can imagine
that’s what happens when
night and day
sun and moon
heaven and earth
extend the world
with sweet goodbyes

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd #poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

see me at The Prose

To Hansel And Gretel

they leave little crumbs
along the path in the woods
and if they started
in the daylight
persistence never wore off
even till it’s dark and freezing
and the depths of the night
unleash terrors, urban rumors
haunting, daunting
victims of the past

they leave little crumbs
to this day, this hour
through every starless, moonless night
wild wolves abound, birds eat
remaining morsels trailing behind
they keep counting steps, shadows
playing tricks, seeking colors
stale bread, muddled, stick around
blocking the way from time to time
the bread’s baked in heart and mind

they leave little crumbs
even after near-death encounters
sweet gingerbread lingers on lips
they remember, they still wander
slipping crushed pieces
to mark forbidden forest grounds
with a map to another
lost together, alone together
whatever it takes to stay, though away,
the twins always find their way

home

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd #poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

see me at The Prose

Ouch!

You pesky mosquito
that sucks out my warmth
and romance, and moonbeams
with my blood.
I will not run out of it
so keep doing that.
Please.
Now, buzz
do your thing
then, come back for another bite.

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd #poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

see me at The Prose

The Air is Not Empty @ Spillwords Press

The Air is Not Empty is a romantic poem about a lover’s call to their beloved. It is now on Spillwords Press.

here is an excerpt:

The air is not empty
It is misty as the fog on a cold day
The breeze carries a weight as it passes by
Ever so swiftly
Familiar sounds fill the atmosphere with music
Heavier than a whisper, lighter than a murmur
It comes with the whistle of the wind

Check out the entire piece here.

Thanks and enjoy!

Evelyn

More of my pieces here: The Prose

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

Way of Life

remember, remember
the ruins, the shadows
the glorious past
and forget not
the beauty, the treasures
that abide
within and without

then build a city
from scratch
in utmost diligence
design it to last
thus, dwell in its glory
and forget not
to live, to bathe in the light

of future’s history
the glorious present
the ruins, the shadows
today being cast
the beauty, the treasures
tomorrow will abide
to be remembered, remembered

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd #poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

see me at The Prose