JosephineDarnerPoeticSamplings

Poetic Samplings
written by
Josephine Darner

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Silence

Excerpted From Beside The Marigolds and Other Paths

The Garden

Childhood Moment

Excerpted From Beside The Marigolds and Other Paths

Excerpted From The Dance Within

Spring's Boudoir

Excerpted From The Dance Within

Endless Quest

Copyright (c) PoetWorks Press, LLC & Josephine Darner
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All Rights Are Reserved

Audio Poems
Antietam Cemetary
The Meadow
Rag Doll



			Sometimes I hear it suspended in the greatest tumult as in the roaring of a waterfall, or sometimes in a woods, where winds create a hollow and nothing moves save a single leaf— Sometimes silence streams electric in my ears— From whence does it spring? Is it in the heart asleep and waiting to be born? Is it poised around consuming grief with its protective wings? It surrounds me like a breath of air even to be sought for, and often to be worn like a shawl of reverence— Copyright (c) 2006 PoetWorks Press Not For Reproduction Or Any Use Without Prior Written Authorization From PoetWorks Press, LLC or Josephine Darner All Rights Reserved

		In the early mornings, wading Through long grass Wet with dew around my feet, I pull open the white wooden gate To stand immersed In my Grandmother’s garden— Filled with awe, I become a part Of the floral wonder— A monarch butterfly inspects the Rose embroidered on my dress, Then arcs away to Graze on rainbowed zinnias— The mornings sing and All the world is enchanted As the vivid circle of my garden company— Spider webs still laced with dew are Curtains on castle windows and Blue larkspurs, tall delicate princesses— Hovering above me, wings of yellow swallowtails Catch the rays of the warming sun— I dare to move—Slowly drawing close to Elegant white dahlias, then turning to Gaze at the mystery of dark red gladiolas— I am mesmerized— Surely this is my earthly paradise— Copyright (c) 2006 PoetWorks Press Not For Reproduction Or Any Use Without Prior Written Authorization From PoetWorks Press, LLC or Josephine Darner All Rights Reserved

	She seeks solace from a cold, round stone— Rolling it back with baby hands she watches the little beetles curl themselves into segmented spheres. Are these tiny bugs her tears incarnate, as she hears the car with Mother and Father spin its wheels and pull away in a final crunch of gravel? Thus her long summer begins, spreading its warm, all embracing arms before her— Copyright (c) 2006 PoetWorks Press Not For Reproduction Or Any Use Without Prior Written Authorization From PoetWorks Press, LLC or Josephine Darner All Rights Reserved

The tiny park is in rampant disarray Mme. Printemps has scattered her peignoir in multi-pinks and sun bright yellows on pale green rings and starry necklaces. A magenta bouffant blouse is thrown askew, and pale pink pantalettes drape over gnarled grey limbs. Sweet bluebells intertwine their bobbing tapered tresses. An ageless meadow sparkles with petite accessories. Frothy dandelions and lavender boquets peek at a powdery blue sky, a mystery yet so infinite, its song ever yields a lilting joyful cry. Copyright (c) 1999 Josephine Darner Not For Reproduction Or Any Use Without Prior Written Authorization From Josephine Darner All Rights Reserved

		Her image pierces the morning air, then ebbs as I push the thought away-- It is my mother's face following me like an airy huanting sprite from yesterday-- Sometimes it appears as if floating in my daydreams of repentance-- If angels were my divine liaisons, I would plead, with humble sorrow, her forgiveness canceling my dire mistake and easing eternity's tomorrow-- Copyright (c) 1999 Josephine Darner Not For Reproduction Or Any Use Without Prior Written Authorization From Josephine Darner All Rights Reserved